Tnompson 
 Buchanan
 
 LIFE
 
 LIFE 
 
 A NOVELIZATION 
 OF THOMPSON BUCHANAN'S PLAY 
 
 BY 
 
 D. TORBETT 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 GROSSET & DUNLAP 
 
 PUBLISHERS
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1815, BY 
 EDWARD J. CLODE
 
 LIFE 
 
 2134259
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 THE general verdict among people who 
 knew her was that Ruth Stuyvesant was 
 an unusual girl. And this did not mean 
 that she was extraordinarily beautiful, or even 
 more talented and accomplished than the aver- 
 age girl in her position; neither was she ec- 
 centric nor given to fads. 
 
 Nevertheless, at nineteen, on the eve of mak- 
 ing her formal bow to the great world of so- 
 ciety, where she was bound to take a conspicu- 
 ous place on account of her father's wealth 
 and position, she had already given signs of 
 being a young woman of unusual force of 
 character. 
 
 Not that she was aggressive or pushing in 
 the strident manner of many of the young 
 women of the day; aside from a quick temper, 
 which flashed out at unexpected moments at 
 any suggestion of unfairness or injustice, she 
 was unusually quiet and modest. But among 
 the girls of her own age it was well under- 
 stood that when Ruth Stuyvesant made up her 
 mind, argument and eloquence were alike 
 wasted, nothing could move her. 
 
 People of the older generation who remem- 
 bered her paternal grandmother, whose fame 
 as a " leader " was still a tradition in New
 
 2 LIFE 
 
 York society, said: " Of course she'd be differ- 
 ent; she wouldn't be old Mrs. Stuyvesant 's 
 granddaughter if she wasn't! " But the con- 
 venient theory of heredity somehow broke 
 down when Ruth's elder brother Ralph, a young 
 man about town, came under discussion. He 
 certainly betrayed none of the ancestral 
 strength of mind. Also, contrary to the Stuy- 
 vesant tradition, which allowed for a certain 
 amount of wild-oat sowing among the men of 
 the family, provided that the harvest was soon 
 garnered, without publicity or scandal, Ralph 
 had not settled down. 
 
 True, he had married early, as did all the 
 Stuyvesant men, a rather colorless woman of 
 suitable position and fortune, who was seen 
 everywhere wearing a perpetually aggrieved 
 look. But it was pointed out that, while at 
 twenty-five his father, already married, had 
 been made a member of the firm in the old 
 house of Stuyvesant and Company, bankers, 
 Ralph, at twenty-eight, was still only an em- 
 ployee, whose duties seemed to be rather vague, 
 whose responsibilities were nil. It was even 
 rumored that the elder Mr. Stuyvesant contem- 
 plated taking an outsider into the firm, pass- 
 ing over Ralph's head. This interesting piece 
 of gossip was supplemented with one even more 
 important to the Stuyvesants' friends in the 
 social world: it was said that this same for- 
 tunate young man would eventually become 
 allied with the house by the strongest of pos-
 
 LIFE 3 
 
 sible ties, namely, that of husband of the daugh- 
 ter and heiress. 
 
 Whether this rumor had reached the ears of 
 Ruth, it was impossible to say. And Ruth was 
 not the sort of person to whom one repeated 
 idle gossip. In spite of the fact that she was 
 always alluded to in the society columns of the 
 newspapers as the "beautiful Miss Stuyve- 
 sant," Euth was not, strictly speaking, beauti- 
 ful. But pretty and charming she was to an 
 exceptional degree. With her reddish hair 
 which possession she always laughingly blamed 
 for her quick temper her wide and humorous 
 mouth, her eyes of that indeterminate hue, 
 which some poet has happily described as 
 
 -Too expressive to be blue, 
 
 Too lovely to be grey," 
 
 she was always a most delectable picture. 
 
 But, best of all, she was the happy possessor 
 of that greatest of all social gifts, using 
 "social" in its broadest sense the gift of 
 being sympathetically interested in the people 
 about her. Whatever enemies she had or was 
 to have in the future and her position was 
 bound to excite both envy and jealousy, the 
 millennium being, as yet, indefinitely post- 
 poned they would never be numbered among 
 any of the dependents of the house of Stuy- 
 vesant. Among her father's servants and em- 
 ployees down to the newest office boy in the 
 bank, she was nothing short of adored.
 
 4 LIFE 
 
 Between Ruth and her father existed a ten- 
 der and sympathetic relation, beautiful as it 
 was rare. She was at once his pride and his 
 compensation. Although she was a Stuyvesant 
 through and through, there were times when 
 his dead wife, whose memory he tenderly 
 cherished after the lapse of years, looked out 
 at him through her eyes. 
 
 And, as far as possible, she made up to him 
 for the bitter disappointment which he suf- 
 fered in the career and character of his son. 
 How galling this disappointment was he was 
 too proud to confess even to his daughter. But 
 occasionally, under the spur of fresh tidings 
 of Kalph's debts or the tale of his having been 
 seen in public with some of the most notorious 
 women of the town, he showed to the sympa- 
 thetic eye of his dearly loved daughter a little 
 of his secret hurt. 
 
 As a matter of fact, Ruth knew quite as much 
 as her father of Ralph's conduct outside of the 
 bank. That the source of their common in- 
 formation was Ralph's wife did not tend to 
 increase the good feeling between the sisters- 
 in-law. At any fresh evidence that Anna had 
 been complaining to her father, Ruth's resent- 
 ment increased. At first she had fought against 
 a natural tendency to despise her brother's 
 wife as a superficial, silly and weak woman. 
 But as time went on she had more or less justi- 
 fied herself to herself. Seeing that she was one 
 of those people who must tell her woes to some-
 
 LIFE 5 
 
 one, Ruth had reluctantly encouraged her to 
 come to her with her troubles. And with the 
 tacit understanding that by so doing she was 
 shielding her father, she had more than once 
 rescued them from some pressing debt. Her 
 own allowance was ample for her needs ; there 
 was always some way to economize, something 
 she herself could do without. 
 
 Ever since her early school days, Euth had 
 made it a habit to go down to the bank in the 
 automobile several times a week to bring her 
 father home. This little attention pleased the 
 old gentleman greatly. But it was part of the 
 pleasure to complain loudly in the hearing of 
 the various officers of the establishment that 
 he was the most persecuted man alive. Never 
 could he escape from petticoat tyranny ! Other 
 men were permitted to find their way home 
 after a hard day's work by themselves. Not 
 he! Of what he was suspected he did not 
 know. But, as all the world could see, he had 
 to have a keeper! It was mortifying, it was 
 humiliating, it was outrageous! And grum- 
 bling at a great rate in this fashion, he would 
 beam happily upon his daughter as they 
 started home together. In his own heart he 
 was already looking forward with dread to the 
 day when her new social duties, after her 
 debut, would be too absorbing to permit of this 
 complained-of espionage. 
 
 Naturally, it frequently happened that Euth 
 would arrive while her father was in confer-
 
 6 LIFE 
 
 ence with some of his associates. With old- 
 fashioned courtesy, he always sent out his 
 apologies, promising to be with her shortly. It 
 was during these times that she had gradually 
 come to know many of the humbler members 
 of the establishment. When Mr. Stuyvesant 
 was at length released from his board meeting, 
 or what not, he was sure to find his daughter's 
 chair surrounded by some of the younger 
 clerks and stenographers, with all of whom she 
 was on terms of easy comradeship. Of course, 
 he always affected to regard this demoraliza- 
 tion of discipline as one of the many evil con- 
 sequences of her insistence on "seeing him 
 home." Secretly he was proud of her gift of 
 making friends, of her popularity with all the 
 staff. 
 
 "If she had only been the son of the house!'- 
 There wasn't a man in the place who wouldn't 
 do anything for her. Whereas Ealph, as his 
 father well knew, was cordially disliked for his 
 overbearing and supercilious manner. 
 
 One afternoon toward the end of May, Euth 
 had had to wait an unusually long time. She 
 had found her father closeted with Ralph, al- 
 ways a sign of fresh worry and annoyance. 
 She had declined to send in word that she was 
 waiting, and while pretending to read a maga- 
 zine, with which one of the stenographers had 
 provided her, watched with amused and indul- 
 gent eyes the progress of a little flirtation be- 
 tween two of the humblest of the bank's em-
 
 LIFE 7 
 
 ployees, one of the stenographers and the 
 watchman. She knew and liked them both and 
 had already made up her mind that they were 
 people to be helped whenever the time came 
 when they should be ready to settle down se- 
 riously. There was no mistaking that they 
 were in earnest, although the girl tried hard 
 to pretend not to be. 
 
 They were both very young, although the 
 watchman's face Euth sometimes fancied had 
 a curiously hunted look, which made him seem 
 prematurely older than his years. She made a 
 mental note that she must ask her father about 
 him. When at length her father came into the 
 outer office, he was accompanied both by Ralph 
 and by Thomas Burnett, the man whose speedy 
 advancement, in a double sense, society was 
 prophesying, as Ruth well knew. The report 
 had caused her much secret annoyance, partly 
 because it had been Ralph's wife who had been 
 her informant. Ruth's ever-ready temper had 
 taken fire at once. 
 
 "Of course, it is too much to expect that 
 people mind their business; most of our 
 friends, unfortunately, haven't enough to oc- 
 cupy their minds to keep them from meddling 
 with other people's affairs. I have known 
 Tom Burnett ever since he first went into 
 father's bank. I call him Tom, but then I call 
 a number of the other clerks by their first 
 names. Why don't they marry me off to 
 O'Brien, the watchman. I always call him
 
 8 LIFE 
 
 Dennis! Oh, it's all too disgusting. I don't 
 see how you can bring yourself to listen to such 
 twaddle, much less how you can repeat it." 
 
 Mrs. Ralph Stuyvesant's brown eyes had 
 narrowed for a moment. 
 
 "Oh, don't you think you are just a little 
 too severe?" she drawled in her affected man- 
 ner, which always got on Ruth's nerves. 
 "After all, you know, you do give the report 
 some color, running down to the bank nearly 
 every day as you do. Everybody thinks you 
 go to see Tom." 
 
 "Why, I began going down when I was only 
 a girl in short dresses. Tom Burnett had just 
 left college to go into business. I don't suppose 
 he had been in long trousers more than a few 
 years. ' ' 
 
 "Yes, so I've heard," replied Mrs. Stuyve- 
 sant, in a tone which made Ruth feel that she 
 understood why people suddenly were impelled 
 to murder. 
 
 She had bitten back a stinging retort, re- 
 membering that her sister-in-law always had 
 a weapon in reserve. She could make her poor 
 father more unhappy by carrying him tales of 
 Ralph's misdoings. 
 
 But the gossip had had one result. Try as 
 she would, Ruth found to her secret chagrin 
 that all attempts to keep her manner to Tom 
 pitched in the same light, familiar, brother-and- 
 sister key that they had years ago adopted 
 failed to ring true in her own ears.
 
 LIFE 9 
 
 That Tom, too, detected the false note she 
 was perfectly convinced, although he never be- 
 trayed by look or manner that he was con- 
 scious of it. But then Tom had always been a 
 very shrewd young person. 
 
 The gossip had spoiled everything, she told 
 herself. She was constantly on the watch when 
 with him, and while she fought against it and 
 told herself that her doubts were unjust to him 
 and unworthy of herself, she could not over- 
 come the growing suspicion that young Burnett 
 knew perfectly what people were saying about 
 them, and that, worst of all, he was, in a subtle 
 manner, doing everything he could to furnish 
 additional grounds for the report. 
 
 For while his manner remained unchanged 
 when they were alone or when her father only 
 was present, when they met at the opera or 
 the theater, or at any of the luncheons or small 
 dinners which are permitted to a young woman 
 not yet officially "out," he assumed an attitude 
 of tender protection, the more exasperating be- 
 cause it was too intangible for her to combat. 
 After all, Ruth was still a very young girl. It 
 could not be expected that she would be as 
 adroit as a woman of the world. 
 
 She had, as it happened, been particularly 
 annoyed by him only the evening before. A 
 reflection of that annoyance displayed itself in 
 her manner as she rose from her chair to greet 
 her father. She noticed that Ealph's face wore 
 a sullen look, which contrasted sharply with
 
 10 LIFE 
 
 her father's worried expression and the alert, 
 bright look of Burnett. 
 
 With a muttered excuse about being late for 
 an appointment and a sulky ''Hello, sis," 
 Ealph shrugged himself into a light topcoat 
 and out the door. 
 
 "Don't forget to look in on me to-night," 
 called Burnett after him. 
 
 Mr. Stuyvesant sank wearily into a chair. 
 
 "I'm sorry to have kept you waiting so long, 
 daughter, but there were some things that I 
 had to attend to at the last minute. We're go- 
 ing to make some changes down here. But Tom 
 shall tell you about them when we get home. 
 You'll ride up with us, won't you, Tom!" 
 
 "Now, father, dear," said Euth, patting his 
 hand tenderly, "you have been working too late. 
 I don't intend to let you even talk business any 
 more to-night. Tom, I'm going to uninvite you 
 to come with us. Father's tired, and besides, 
 I want him to myself. I've some very impor- 
 tant business of my own to discuss. You won't 
 mind, I know." 
 
 Burnett accepted his dismissal with charac- 
 teristic good humor, while Mr. Stuyvesant, tak- 
 ing his cue to grumble about not even being 
 permitted to ask a friend to ride home with 
 him, such was the tyranny under which he 
 lived, declared himself ready to depart. 
 
 "You're going to see Ralph this evening, 
 didn't you say!" he asked as Burnett stood 
 at the door of the automobile. * ' Your influence
 
 LIFE II 
 
 over him is far stronger than his father's, and 
 has always been for his good. Try and make 
 him see that no one will be more glad than I 
 to see any signs of improvement in his conduct 
 and to reward it. Stuyvesant and Company 
 will welcome him as a partner whenever he 
 shows signs of meriting such an advance." 
 
 " Surely, sir, you can count on me. I'll make 
 him see that I am only holding down the place 
 until he is ready to take things a little more 
 seriously." 
 
 "Not at all, not at all. But there is na 
 reason why, with our immense business, there 
 should not be room for you both." 
 
 For several moments after they had started 
 for home, Mr. Stuyvesant was silent. Ruth al- 
 ways respected his moods, knowing that when 
 he was ready to make any confidences she would 
 be the one person to whom he would turn with 
 his troubles. She knew from long experience 
 that all his troubles originated with Ralph. But 
 for the moment she was at a loss to account for 
 any fresh outbreak on her brother's part. She 
 had seen Anna only yesterday and had con- 
 gratulated herself that for once she seemed to 
 have no new complaints to make. She was al- 
 ways hoping that Ralph would at last settle 
 down and become a comfort and gratification 
 to his father. 
 
 From the time that she was old enough to be 
 any judge of character she had realized that he 
 was lamentably weak and easily influenced. But
 
 12 LIFE 
 
 she had never thought that he was inherently 
 vicious. With the right sort of associates he 
 would have developed into the average type of 
 man she knew, even if he could never hope to 
 be as universally respected and looked up to 
 as his father. Womanlike, she blamed his wife 
 more than anyone. If Anna had had a shred 
 of real force of character, she told herself, 
 things might have been different. As it was, 
 she still hoped that the combined efforts of 
 her father, Tom Burnett and herself might yet 
 make a man of him. After all, he was very 
 young and curiously undeveloped. In spite of 
 the fact that he was nine years the elder, she 
 always felt as if in some unaccountable manner 
 the family records had been changed and that 
 she herself were really the firstborn of the 
 family. 
 
 "You may congratulate your friend Tom 
 when you see him next," said her father at 
 length. "He has been honored with the post 
 of junior partner in Stuyvesant and Company. 
 He will not be officially appointed before the 
 first of the month, but there is no reason that 
 his advancement should be kept secret from his 
 friends. And I am glad to say that he fully de- 
 serves his promotion," he added with a sigh. 
 
 Ruth linked her arm in that of her father. 
 She understood the sigh. How humiliated he 
 must be at the thought that the new associate 
 in the house of which he was the head should 
 be an outsider! Never in the long and honor-
 
 LIFE 13 
 
 able career of the house had it been headed by 
 anyone not bearing the name of Stuyvesant. 
 
 "I am glad, particularly if it will take any 
 care off your shoulders. We have all known 
 Tom so long that he seems quite like one of our- 
 selves. And I think this change may be good 
 for Kalph. Of course, he will be humiliated. 
 But I think it is just what he needs to bring 
 him to his senses. You know Ralph isn't really 
 bad at heart. And if he has any pride this 
 will stimulate him to pull himself together and 
 show that he is really worth something." 
 
 "I have almost given up hope," said her 
 father sadly. "But I agree with you that this 
 lesson may be the best he has ever had. I 
 cannot quite free myself from the idea that I 
 am largely to blame. I have been too liberal 
 and indulgent with him. He has been spoiled 
 by too much money. But money never spoiled 
 a Stuyvesant before," he added proudly. 
 
 "Yes, I shall be much more free, with Tom 
 to take a large part of the detail of the bank 
 off my hands. He has a good head and is as 
 steady as a rock. He will be the help and com- 
 fort that I had always hoped my son would be. 
 I sometimes wish " 
 
 He stopped and looked keenly at his daugh- 
 ter. To her secret annoyance, the color flooded 
 Euth's face. Her father, too, must have heard 
 the gossip that was linking her name with 
 Tom's. 
 
 "Oh, my little girl, my little girl," he said,
 
 14 LIFE 
 
 taking her hand in his, "it would be a weight 
 off my mind to know that after I am gone 
 yonr happiness would be safe in the hands of 
 a man like Tom!" 
 
 "Don't, father, don't talk of such a thing. 
 One would think that you were old and de- 
 crepit. Just wait a week or two till the boat 
 race. You'll be as much of a boy as any of the 
 crew. Last year you acted as if you were an 
 undergraduate," said Euth, forcing herself to 
 laugh, although the quick tears had come into 
 her eyes. 
 
 "Oh, I know I'm not exactly an old man yet, 
 and thank God my health is still of the best! 
 But one must think of the future. I didn't in- 
 tend to speak of it yet, but I don't know of any 
 young fellow I would so gladly see you fall in 
 love with as Tom Burnett." 
 
 "I didn't know you were so anxious to be rid 
 of me." 
 
 "Euth!" 
 
 "It certainly looks like it. You are making 
 plans to marry me off to a man who has always 
 been, if not exactly like a brother, like a sort 
 of a cousin to me. Father!" as she caught the 
 expression of his face, "you don't mean that 
 Tom has has said anything to you!" 
 
 "Yes, he came to me last winter. But I told 
 him to wait, that you were too young. I 
 wanted you to see a little of the world and so- 
 ciety first. I didn't intend to speak of it, as I 
 said. But to-day's business has sort of upset
 
 LIFE 15 
 
 me. And now that I have spoken, I will say 
 that it is the dearest wish of my heart. " 
 
 "But, father, you wouldn't want me to marry 
 a man I didn't love. I know it's old-fash- 
 ioned," said Ruth with a shy little laugh, "but 
 I have made up my mind to die an old maid, 
 unless the right man comes along. ' ' 
 
 "Of course I wouldn't, daughter. Keep to 
 your ' old-fashioned' ideas, as you call them. I 
 have too much confidence in my little girl to 
 think that she could ever love anyone un- 
 worthy." 
 
 ' ' Thank you, father. ' ' Ruth leaned over and 
 kissed him. 
 
 "Tell me one thing, Ruthie, and I'll promise 
 not to bring up the subject again until you are 
 ready to reopen it. Is there anyone else?" He 
 looked at her with anxious eyes. 
 
 With an heroic effort Ruth succeeded in hid- 
 ing a smile. 
 
 "Yes," she said slowly, "there is. I'm 
 madly, distractedly in love with a man, oh, 
 quite a little older than I; in fact, he's old 
 enough to be my father. And his name " 
 here she broke into a peal of laughter as she 
 encountered Mr. Stuyvesant's glance of stony 
 horror "his name is William Van Rennssel- 
 aer Stuyvesant ! ' ' 
 
 And as the automobile stopped in front of 
 their door she leaned over and kissed him 
 again, to the manifest scandal of a passing nurs- 
 erymaid.
 
 CHAPTER H 
 
 TOM BUENETT had waited, standing on the 
 pavement, hat in hand, until his senior part- 
 ner's automobile turned the corner, the smile 
 which many people found so winning still curv- 
 ing his lips. 
 
 It was his habit when he was not dining out 
 and had a free evening to walk uptown to his 
 club, partly because he enjoyed the exercise 
 and partly because he often found that his 
 mind worked more clearly under the stimulus 
 of locomotion. 
 
 As he walked along with his free, swinging 
 gait, he was pleasantly conscious of the covert 
 glances of admiration which were bestowed on 
 him by many women and some men in the pass- 
 ing throng. It was not only that he was a 
 handsome, upstanding figure, but there was 
 something about his whole personality that ex- 
 haled success. Years before, his shrewd old 
 grandmother had declared that she foresaw 
 that he would get anything in the world that 
 he wanted. And she had mentally added that 
 he would not be over-scrupulous as to the 
 means employed. 
 
 It may have been that as he grew older others 
 divined the same defect in his character with- 
 out so exactly defining it. Possessing all of 
 
 16
 
 LIFE 17 
 
 the superficial qualities which make for popu- 
 larity, he had passed three years at Yale Uni- 
 versity without distinguishing himself in any 
 way, and had left at the end of his junior year 
 without if we except his friendship for Ralph 
 Stuyvesant having formed any of those close 
 ties so natural to his time of life. Ralph, who 
 was two years his junior, admired him extrava- 
 gantly and was greatly flattered at having been 
 picked out for a friend by so handsome and 
 clever a personage. He had been proud to 
 bring this attractive young man home with 
 him at the holidays and was gratified to find 
 his judgment indorsed by both his father and 
 sister, particularly the former, who had not 
 always in the past approved of the objects of 
 his son's sudden friendships. 
 
 Burnett had improved these opportunities to 
 the utmost. He could at will assume an air of 
 appealing frankness, which, added to the fact 
 that he undoubtedly was the possessor of a fine 
 mind and displayed a keen interest and natural 
 aptitude for business, had decided the elder 
 Stuyvesant to make him an offer of a position 
 in his bank, although he deprecated his resolu- 
 tion to cut short his college career. 
 
 But Burnett had frankly explained that he 
 was not doing so on any sudden or uncon- 
 sidered impulse. He had, it seemed, a widowed 
 mother and two younger sisters living in a 
 small country town in the Middle West; and, 
 while his mother's slender income was sufii-
 
 18 LIFE 
 
 cient for their present needs, he not only 
 chafed at being a further drain on their re- 
 sources, but was anxious to help them to realize 
 upon the investment made in his education as 
 soon as possible. Then, too, he pointed out, 
 unless he should be able to contribute to the 
 support of his sisters by the time they should 
 be a little older, they would be compelled to do 
 something to support themselves. 
 
 "So, you see," he finished with his charming 
 smile, "it's * up to me.' " 
 
 He could hardly have employed an argument 
 which would have appealed more strongly to 
 his host. Mr. Stuyvesant had all the prejudices 
 of his generation in favor of his womankind be- 
 ing sheltered and protected against all knowl- 
 edge of the rough side of life. That this young 
 man, who unquestionably came of people of 
 breeding and refinement, should hold similar 
 views was a credit alike to his heart and to his 
 manliness of character. 
 
 And so, shortly after his twentieth birthday, 
 Burnett had entered the great house of Stuy- 
 vesant and Company. 
 
 Once there, he had more than justified his 
 employer's opinion. There was no question 
 but that he had chosen the proper field for the 
 exercise of his undoubted talent for finance. 
 At first, naturally, he saw but little of the head 
 of the firm. He was far too shrewd to trade 
 upon the social side of their relation. But from 
 time to time reports of his industry, his appli-
 
 LIFE 19 
 
 cation and his abilities were brought to his 
 gratified patron. 
 
 For the three years while Ralph was still at 
 the university, and Euth in the hands of teach- 
 ers and governesses, Burnett saw but little of 
 the Stuyvesant family. But once Ealph was 
 graduated he had managed to get through 
 with the smallest of margins and taken the 
 place waiting for him in the bank, he began 
 once more to frequent the house, where he was 
 doubly welcome as Ealph 's friend and as a 
 young man of unusual promise. 
 
 That their friendship was as strong as ever, 
 in spite of the fact that the elder Stuyvesant 
 was continually holding up his protege as a 
 shining example to his son, was, in the begin- 
 ning, a credit both to Ealph 's natural gener- 
 osity and to his friend's tact. Later on there 
 were more substantial, if less creditable, rea- 
 sons for its continuance. 
 
 It had not taken Tom Burnett three years to 
 come to the conclusion that even with his ex- 
 ceptional talents and the favor of his employer, 
 the direct and honest road to wealth and power 
 was too long for a man of his extravagant 
 tastes and ambitions. He had made up his 
 mind when hardly more than a lad that wealth 
 and power he would have, and that, too, while 
 he was still young enough to enjoy them to the 
 full. That there were men well under middle- 
 age who were great figures in the financial 
 world he very well knew.
 
 20 LIFE 
 
 But in studying their careers he had almost 
 invariably been confronted with the fact that 
 they had been the fortunate possessors of what 
 to him seemed modest fortunes to begin with. 
 The day had gone by, he told himself, when 
 poor men could become millionaires by talent 
 and industry alone. There were too many com- 
 petitors with an equal amount of talent and in- 
 dustry plus capital. Things being equal, he 
 would have preferred to be honest. But hon- 
 esty was a luxury which the struggling poor 
 man could not afford until after he had reached 
 his goal or saw himself well on the way to it. 
 Many a man was held in the highest respect 
 whose business ethics would hardly have con- 
 formed to old-fashioned standards. Times had 
 changed. Success was the only criterion. The 
 difference between being known as a ''sharp" 
 man of business and a dishonest one was only 
 the difference between success and failure. 
 That was the thing in a nutshell. It was with 
 such sophistries as these that he lulled the voice 
 of a never very active conscience. 
 
 But he intended to "play safe." To do 
 otherwise was to confess to being a fool. And 
 the safest game for him was to involve Ralph 
 in any of the numerous little "enterprises" 
 which already teemed in his busy, active, spider 
 brain. Ralph would always be an anchor to 
 windward. If things went wrong and the per- 
 centage against their doing so was all in his 
 favor the only son of the head of the firm
 
 LIFE 21 
 
 would be as much involved as he. He had care- 
 fully cultivated the acquaintance of a young 
 stockbroker by the name of Davidson, a mem- 
 ber of an old and reputable firm, who, however 
 shrewd he might be in a business way, he found 
 singularly gullible in all matters not pertain- 
 ing to the affairs of his office. 
 
 He had been at no small pains to ingratiate 
 himself with this youth, whom he found sus- 
 ceptible to flattery to an almost laughable de- 
 gree. Like so many of his kind, he considered 
 himself a full-fledged man-of-the-world and a 
 keen judge of character. Naturally he was clay 
 in the hands of a clever and unscrupulous man 
 like Burnett. 
 
 It had been an easy thing to fill his ears with 
 the story of some rich maiden aunts in the 
 West, who had a mania for speculation. It 
 would, of course, be a simple matter for their 
 favorite nephew to throw their business where 
 he chose. And there was nowhere he would 
 rather throw it than to Davidson, Post and 
 Davidson. Only the younger Davidson must 
 see to it that his friend did not appear in any 
 of the transactions. While it was true that 
 nearly everyone speculated nowadays, even 
 the safest ventures were barred to the em- 
 ployees of Stuyvesant and Company. Old man 
 Stuyvesant would have a blue fit if it came to 
 his ears that any of them had anything to do 
 with the market. Later on, when certain con- 
 templated changes took place and Tom had
 
 22 LIFE 
 
 known how to hint unmistakably that the con- 
 templated changes included his own promotion 
 things would be different. But for the 
 present 
 
 Davidson had agreed to guarantee the ut- 
 most secrecy and Tom had begun to speculate 
 cautiously and in a small way, which was a 
 credit to the discretion of the rich aunts. Be- 
 ginner's luck is proverbial. Burnett was no 
 exception to the rule. He was too cool-headed 
 to lose his point of view over his first successes, 
 and all might have gone well if he could have 
 equally kept his head over the matter of his 
 personal expenditures. But his greatest weak- 
 ness was for women. And a woman was his 
 undoing. 
 
 It was during his first term at college that 
 Fate crossed his path in the shape of Grace 
 Andrews, the daughter of the trainer of the 
 crew. Little more than a child in years she 
 was barely fifteen she already gave promise 
 of developing into unusual beauty, with her 
 wonderful dark eyes, her scarlet lips and her 
 creamy skin. At first Burnett, like all the mem- 
 bers of the crew and the men interested in boat- 
 ing, who spent a large part of their spare time 
 around the training quarters, treated her like a 
 child, teasing her and spoiling her by turns. 
 But gradually it began to dawn upon him that 
 she was as unusual in character as in appear- 
 ance. 
 
 Whether or not it was some deep-seated pre-
 
 LIFE 23 
 
 disposition to evil in her nature that responded 
 to a like quality in his, their relation was al- 
 most from the beginning entirely different from 
 that which existed between her and the clean- 
 limbed, clean-minded boys who made up the 
 various crews and their substitutes, at once the 
 pride and the torment of old Tom Andrews and 
 his fat, good-natured wife. 
 
 To all outward appearances, Gracie treated 
 them all alike, chaffing them and being plagued 
 by them in turn, calling them all familiarly by 
 their first names or nicknames; now siding 
 with them, now with her mother in the warfare 
 that was constantly waged between them. For 
 these light-hearted lads, full to overflowing 
 with animal spirits, delighted in deviling 
 "Mother" Andrews almost more than they did 
 her daughter; while she, for her part, would 
 have felt that her occupation was gone if she 
 did not have them to scold and abuse. 
 
 But when Gracie and Tom Burnett were 
 alone together her manner altered completely. 
 The romping hoyden vanished and she became 
 thoughtful, even grave. No one seeing her for 
 the first time in this mood would ever have 
 dreamed of splashing her with water or pulling 
 her long, thick braids of hair. The first time 
 Burnett had encountered this attitude he had 
 met it with a mocking air of deference, which, 
 however, had not survived the girl's first 
 speech. 
 
 1 ' Heavens ! ' ' she said scornfully. ' * I thought
 
 24 LIFE 
 
 I was talking to a man. But I see you are really 
 as much a child as the others." 
 
 "I beg your pardon," he said, considerably 
 taken back, "but how is one to know how to 
 take you? I promise not to be so stupid again. 
 But, in self-defense, let me remind you that it 
 is hardly five minutes since you were chas- 
 ing Phil Painter round the house with the 
 broom." 
 
 " And what if I was? I tell you they're all 
 children, every one of them. And I let them 
 treat me as if I were only a child for a reason. 
 Father and mother are too simple to realize 
 that I've really ' grown up.' Why, I'll be six- 
 teen my next birthday. Mother was married 
 when she was only a little older than I ! " 
 
 "You surely don't want to get married yet." 
 
 "Married ! ' ' She flashed him a look from her 
 great black eyes. "I should think not. Be- 
 sides, who is there for me to marry? Joe 
 Hampton, the coach?" Her laugh was cu- 
 riously hard. "No," she went on soberly, "I 
 have no idea of getting married. But I do in- 
 tend to get away from this hole just as soon as 
 I can. Don't you think there's a place for a 
 girl, a girl like me, in New York?" 
 
 She faced him with a smile so frankly cynical 
 that he could only relieve his feelings by a long 
 whistle. 
 
 "That the child of Tom and old Mother An- 
 drews!" he said to himself on the way back to 
 his room. "Then she's a changeling. If her
 
 LIFE 2^ 
 
 father 'd seen that smile well, he'd commit 
 murder or I don't know him." 
 
 He did not see her again for over a week. 
 As a matter of fact, she had frightened him. 
 He told himself more than once that she 
 couldn't have meant what he had thought. But 
 in his secret heart he knew better. He cau- 
 tiously sounded the other fellows to see if the 
 idea that Gracie was anything more than an 
 unsophisticated child had ever occurred to any 
 of them. It hadn't. Apparently he had been 
 the only person to whom she had ever given a 
 hint of her real ambitions. 
 
 Partly because he was a little flattered and 
 partly because she intrigued his curiosity, he 
 sought an opportunity to talk to her again at 
 the end of the second week. No, he had not 
 been mistaken. 
 
 Certainly she had the virtue of frankness. 
 Her philosophy of life, her plans for the fu- 
 ture, her determination to succeed in wresting 
 from the world the things that she could never 
 honestly hope to have, were disclosed with a 
 coolness that took away his breath. She made 
 him feel as if he were a perfect infant in 
 worldly knowledge. The only thing he could! 
 never discover was the sources of her extraor- 
 dinary information. 
 
 He ended by admiring her enormously and 
 fearing her almost as much. He would have 
 been surprised to discover that she was fully 
 aware of both these tributes. And while he
 
 26 LIFE 
 
 was about her father's quarters as much as 
 ever, he was circumspection itself as far as his 
 conduct with the daughter of the house was 
 concerned. He, too, had his formula of worldly 
 wisdom. He could not risk a scandal at the 
 outset of his career. On the whole, they under- 
 stood each other pretty well. 
 
 "Perhaps I'll run across you some day 
 again when you are rich and famous," he said 
 to her at their last meeting before he was to 
 leave college. 
 
 "Y-e-s, and perhaps sooner," she said with 
 her mocking smile. "If you get on as fast as 
 you ought." Which reply left him far from 
 happy. 
 
 From time to time after coming to New York 
 he had sent her small gifts of candy and such 
 trifles as picture post cards. But aside from 
 prim notes of thanks which he was sure she 
 first showed to her mother, she never wrote. 
 There came a time when even these unsatisfac- 
 tory responses were not forthcoming. Then 
 Ralph had mentioned casually in one of his 
 frequent letters begging for a loan to pay some 
 uncomfortably pressing debt that Mrs. An- 
 drews had asked him to let Burnett know that 
 Gracie was "away to a young ladies' school," 
 and that unless he wanted to make her mother 
 fatter than ever, he must send no more candy. 
 
 And then one morning, the year after Ralph's 
 graduation, a letter had arrived for Burnett by 
 special delivery containing a peremptory com-
 
 LIFE 27 
 
 mand for him to meet the 7.00 P.M. train from 
 Philadelphia, signed "Grace Andrews." The 
 gentleman thus honored had sworn fervidly 
 and vowed that he would do nothing of the 
 kind. He had never heard of such cheek. 
 
 But he was at the Pennsylvania station ten 
 minutes before the time. Curiosity had con- 
 quered. He did want to see what she was like. 
 But his most ardent expectations fell far short 
 of the actuality. She came toward him down 
 the long platform with her unforgettable smile, 
 so radiantly beautiful, so tastefully and becom- 
 ingly dressed, that she was the center of all ad- 
 miring glances. 
 
 "There wasn't a woman in the place that 
 didn't look like a washerwoman beside her," 
 was Tom's inward comment. 
 
 He forgot all his irritation of the morning, 
 aroused by her letter. By the time their taxi 
 drew up in front of the fashionable restaurant, 
 where he had elected to dine, he felt that he 
 had been looking forward to this moment for 
 years, and almost cheated himself into believ- 
 ing that it was true. 
 
 As he sat gazing at her across the table and 
 watched her slowly and languidly draw off her 
 gloves he wondered how he had ever wasted 
 an hour on any of the numerous women who, 
 from time to time, had seemed to him desirable. 
 Why, there wasn't a woman in New York 
 to be compared with her. He could tell, before 
 they had finished the hors d 'ceuvre, that she had
 
 28 LIFE 
 
 made a sensation, and that, too, in a resort 
 noted for its beautiful women. 
 
 And how and where did old Tom Andrews' 
 daughter acquire that air of distinction and 
 learn to move with such grace? He remem- 
 bered that he had once thought of her as a 
 changeling. He was more convinced of it than 
 ever. And how she had more than fulfilled the 
 rich promise of her childhood! 
 
 All this, and more, he poured out to her in 
 accents of unmistakable sincerity. He could 
 hardly tear his eyes from her face long enough 
 to make a pretense of eating the various courses 
 as they were set before him. Still, fascinated 
 as he was, that part of his cold and calculating 
 brain, which was always on guard, told him to 
 go warily. It was curious how, once more under 
 the spell of her dominating personality, the 
 old fear awoke. Not for a moment did he 
 have an illusion that he was in danger of fall- 
 ing in love with her. He would never love any- 
 one. He was not that sort, any more than the 
 woman opposite him was the sort of woman to 
 inspire love. Men would long for her; they 
 might dare much to possess her. He felt for 
 the moment that he would go to great lengths 
 himself while that flowerlike face bloomed 
 across from his, when he met the kindling 
 glance of those wonderful eyes. 
 
 In the meantime, if Grace shared his excite- 
 ment, she was sufficiently self -controlled not to 
 show any trace of it. She accepted his rhap-
 
 LIFE 29 
 
 sodies graciously, but her manner suggested 
 that she considered them a necessary concomi- 
 tant to a dinner at which she was the guest. 
 But secretly she was exultant. She was more 
 than ever convinced that the plan of campaign 
 she had chosen had been the right one. How 
 she had had to fight with herself during these 
 last few years to keep from coming to New 
 York sooner. But ambition had been a wise 
 counselor. 
 
 She saw what her career would have been 
 had she yielded to impulse and made her 
 debut as so many girls did, trusting to their 
 looks alone to make their fortunes. Would a 
 man like Tom Burnett have brought her to a 
 restaurant like this, however pretty she was, 
 if she had come to him directly from her 
 father's home! The simple village maid was 
 all very well in poetry and fiction. But Grace 
 was too instinctively worldly-wise to take any 
 stock in her in reality. 
 
 With the swift, appraising glance which 
 women give, she took in the women about her. 
 Many of them were pretty and distinguished 
 and all of them were beautifully dressed. But 
 she comfortably reflected that she did not suffer 
 by comparison with any one of them. Her trav- 
 eling dress was becoming and in the best taste, 
 and there wasn't a woman who approached her 
 for looks. Yes, the time she had devoted to 
 preparation had been well employed. 
 
 "How could you have been so cruel as to
 
 30 LIFE 
 
 keep me waiting for you so long without ever 
 a word," said Burnett huskily, as he watched 
 her sipping her coffee. " Didn't you remem- 
 ber that I told you I would be waiting for you? ' ' 
 
 "No," she said with her dazzling smile, "I 
 don't quite remember that. I seem to recall 
 that you said you might run across me if I 
 were successful." 
 
 "You knew I didn't mean that." 
 
 "Then you find me satisfactory? My ap- 
 pearance does you credit?" 
 
 "You are the most beautiful creature I ever 
 saw in my life! But you always were, and I 
 told you so long ago." 
 
 "Y-e-s. Still, if I had arrived unexpectedly 
 a year or two ago, I don 't think you would have 
 brought me here. We would probably have 
 gone to one of Childs' places. I can see you 
 taking a raw country girl to a place like this." 
 
 "Nonsense! But tell me a little about your- 
 self and your plans." 
 
 "There's not much to tell. I've been work- 
 ing hard yes, really. Father and mother 
 think that I have had an offer of a good posi- 
 tion here in New York as a stenographer. Of 
 course, they wanted me to stay at home, but I 
 have persuaded them to let me try it. As a mat- 
 ter of fact, I am depending on you for a help- 
 ing hand just at first." 
 
 She smilingly showed him her purse, which 
 held a few crumpled bills and some loose silver. 
 
 "Twelve dollars and sixty-five cents is all I
 
 LIFE 31 
 
 have left. And I have two other gowns, only 
 fairly presentable." 
 
 " Don't bother your head about that," he 
 said. 
 
 Standing before the mirror in the drawing- 
 room of a little suite in a quiet, old-fashioned 
 hotel, Grace slowly took off her hat. In spite 
 of his stormy protests, Tom had had to content 
 himself with a kiss bestowed on him in the dis- 
 creet shelter of the taxi. He was to be per- 
 mitted to have tea with his divinity on the fol- 
 lowing afternoon, and perhaps take her to din- 
 ner in some quiet place. Miss Andrews had 
 no idea of showing herself in public again with- 
 out a suitable costume. 
 
 Before undressing she took a little roll of 
 bills from the inside of her waist. She 
 smoothed them out carefully before locking 
 them securely away in her trunk. There were 
 five of them five one hundred dollar bills. 
 Somehow she had forgotten them when making 
 the inventory of her worldly possessions ! She 
 yawned lazily like a cat before putting out the 
 light. 
 
 " Things are starting well," she said to her- 
 self. And then, with a laugh, * ' I wonder what 
 he said when my letter came?"
 
 CHAPTER m 
 
 BY the end of the month Grace, who had as- 
 sumed the style and title of "Mrs. Andrews," 
 was established in an old-fashioned, little apart- 
 ment in one of the oldest apartment houses in 
 the city, situated just off Fifth Avenue not far 
 from Washington Square. 
 
 The household consisted of a Frenchwoman 
 of middle-age, a really remarkable cook, who 
 was also maid of all work, and, to Burnett's 
 intense amusement, of an elderly woman, a 
 Mrs. Watson, who was a sort of duenna and 
 companion. The latter lady seemed to be the 
 victim of chronic headaches. At least she al- 
 ways suffered from them when they dined at 
 home and never appeared at the table. What 
 she was supposed to do at other times was a 
 mystery. She had come on from Philadelphia 
 at the summons of her employer. Grace had 
 explained rather vaguely that it was more 
 prudent to have her, and had added that as she 
 was wonderfully clever with her needle, she 
 more than paid for herself by keeping her cos- 
 tumes in order. 
 
 Tom accepted this statement with reserva- 
 tions. In his own phrase, Grace "kept him 
 guessing." That she never did anything with- 
 out a purpose, he was convinced. But her mo-
 
 LIFE 33 
 
 fives for many things were unfathomable. For 
 instance, she insisted on maintaining the fiction 
 that all the money he gave her was merely a 
 loan. He was, of course, paying the rent of the 
 apartment and the current expenses. These 
 items at the end of each month Grace solemnly 
 inscribed in a small leather-backed book which 
 already contained the cost of the furnishings 
 and the amount he had deposited in her name 
 in an uptown bank. 
 
 When, after some months, he had ventured 
 to suggest that he thought the joke a little 
 played out, she had flown into a furious pas- 
 sion, had told him that he was a coarse brute 
 and ordered him out of the house. And for 
 nearly a week madame was invisible when he 
 called. That taught him a lesson. He found 
 that it was permitted to offer her jewels, furs 
 and even costumes; but money, never. As a 
 matter of fact, Grace had seized this oppor- 
 tunity to make a scene in order to get away for 
 a few days. She had not been home for over 
 a year, and she wanted to satisfy herself that 
 her parents had no suspicion that her story of 
 employment in New York was anything but the 
 truth. It would have been perfectly simple to 
 have told Tom that she was going to see her 
 parents, but for some reason, which it would 
 have puzzled her to define, she shrank from 
 ever mentioning them to her lover. At the 
 bottom of her heart she still cared for them 
 too much not to wish to screen them from the
 
 34 LIFE 
 
 pain and horror that would be theirs, once they 
 knew the life she was living. Besides, she had 
 a genuine fear of her father. Simple and 
 kindly as he was, she knew how jealous he was 
 of his good name. She might argue to herself 
 that this was a new age for women, that the 
 day had dawned when every woman had a right 
 to live her own life as men had always done, 
 but she would never have dared to advance such 
 theories to him. 
 
 The useful Mrs. Watson had been dispatched 
 the morning following the quarrel to buy a 
 simple, ready-made dress and a few little in- 
 expensive gifts for the old people, and Grace 
 had departed, leaving her instructions for the 
 disciplining of Burnett. 
 
 She was thoroughly glad to be home again 
 for a few days. Also it gave her an oppor- 
 tunity to think things over a little, as somehow 
 she didn't seem to be able to do in New York. 
 Years afterwards she realized that it was dur- 
 ing this visit she had come to the decision 
 that was to shape her future. If she had fol- 
 lowed her first and better impulse, not only 
 her own life, but the lives of those for whom 
 she still had a genuine affection, might not 
 have been darkened by unhappiness and shame. 
 
 For Tom wanted to marry her. After six 
 months he was, if possible, more infatuated 
 with her than ever. He, too, had been thinking 
 things over. At one time he had had other 
 plans, to be sure. He intended to marry some
 
 LIFE 35 
 
 girl whose money and position could further 
 his ambitions. But the weakest point in Tom 
 Burnett's armor was his proneness to self- 
 indulgence. He had so long been in the habit of 
 convincing himself that the thing he wanted to 
 do was the wisest and best that it was an easy 
 matter to persuade himself that in marrying 
 his mistress he would be doing a sensible and 
 even politic thing. The question of morality, 
 naturally, never bothered him. 
 
 And Grace had completely subjugated him, 
 not only by her beauty, but by her cleverness 
 and tact. Her taste was unerring. He had 
 learned much himself from contact with the 
 cultivated rich. And he had expected to find, 
 in spite of the years spent in finishing herself, 
 that many of her ideas were crude and vulgar. 
 
 But after inspecting the apartment she had 
 chosen, and particularly after seeing it filled, 
 but not crowded, with a number of good pieces, 
 evidencing not only a sound discrimination, but 
 a fine sense of appropriateness, the last hesi- 
 tations, born of the counsels of worldly pru- 
 dence, vanished. 
 
 Like many people who pride themselves on 
 their shrewdness, Burnett made the not un- 
 common error of never crediting others with 
 an equal amount of that useful commodity. 
 He would have been not a little astonished if 
 he had known that Mrs. Watson's usefulness 
 was not confined to the gentle art of needle- 
 work, and that it was owing entirely to her ad-
 
 36 LIFE 
 
 vice and direction that Grace's natural inclina- 
 tion toward the flamboyant, both in personal 
 attire and in the furnishings of her apartment, 
 were kept in check. 
 
 In short, Grace's natural taste was exactly 
 what one would have expected from her par- 
 entage and upbringing. But she had inherited 
 also an active and eager mind. She was more 
 than willing to learn, and she was as imitative 
 as a Japanese. 
 
 The tie which bound these two women to- 
 gether was purely a business one. Their meet- 
 ing several years before had been accidental. 
 But each had recognized it as a fortunate 
 chance. At sixty, Mrs. Watson was bankrupt, 
 both in money and in reputation. It was plain 
 that she had had the early advantages of breed- 
 ing and education, in addition to which, out of 
 the abysmal experiences of her later life, she 
 was able to give sound advice. She cleverly 
 anticipated any question as to how, with her 
 knowledge and ability, she had managed to 
 make such a mess of her own life by posing as 
 a Horrible Warning rather than as a Shining 
 Example. On the subject of her birth and 
 family she was a sphinx. No one knew any- 
 thing as to her childhood, not even where she 
 came from. She summarized her later career 
 by declaring that she had been a fool in letting 
 her heart betray her head, of which romantic 
 phrase she was secretly rather proud. 
 
 While Grace felt that as an explanation of
 
 LIFE 37 
 
 the disasters covering a tolerably long period 
 <*f time it was somewhat inadequate, leaving, 
 as it did, so much to be supplied by the im- 
 agination, she recognized that fundamentally it 
 was the true one. 
 
 Mrs. Watson was incurably sentimental and 
 emotional. She never failed to attend perform- 
 ances of "La Dame aux Camelias" and plays 
 of similar character, where she abandoned her- 
 self to lachrymations so exhausting as to neces- 
 sitate spending the entire following day in bed. 
 Such sentimental orgies were the greatest 
 pleasures which her life afforded. 
 
 But this weakness did not interfere with her 
 usefulness to her friend or prevent her being 
 keenly alive to her own best interests. No 
 doubt it was because her too susceptible heart 
 was only vicariously involved in Grace's "ro- 
 mance. ' ' 
 
 At all events, from the moment that Grace 
 had confided to her that Tom was ready to 
 legalize their relation, Mrs. Watson opposed 
 it with every argument she could invent, at 
 least for the present. She darkly hinted that 
 a too precipitate marriage had been the first 
 step in her own undoing. She pointed out that 
 Grace was still in the first flush of her beauty 
 and fascination. There was plenty of time. 
 There was no earthly reason why Burnett 
 should not be equally eager for the marriage 
 six months or a year hence. In the meantime 
 one could look round. The thing to do was to
 
 38 LIFE 
 
 make him introduce her to some of his men 
 friends. If half the stories he told them were 
 true, he was by way of meeting some of the 
 most prominent men in the world of finance 
 every day. What if he became jealous? 
 Heavens ! So much the better. 
 
 It was impossible to foresee how Grace was 
 going to be affected by all this eloquence. 
 Mrs. Watson understood perfectly well that 
 the visit to her old home was half a pretext to 
 get away by herself and perhaps come to a 
 decision. At the worst, she was sure that she 
 could delay matters for a few months at least. 
 Grace was both vain and avaricious. Natu- 
 rally, to one brought up as she had been, her 
 present scale of expenditure must seem little 
 short of magnificent. From now on they must 
 branch out. If Burnett did not balk well, 
 then, let Grace marry him in a year's time, if 
 she were fool enough. By that time the ex- 
 cellent Mrs. Watson never doubted that she 
 could feather her own nest sufficiently to tide 
 her over until she was able to obtain another 
 position. In the end, it was Burnett himself 
 who played into her hands. 
 
 Grace had returned fully determined to 
 marry him. She thought that she had reached 
 her decision by weighing things coldly and dis- 
 passionately. Tom was just at the outset of 
 his career, to be sure, but after all he was 
 genuinely in love with her and he had cer- 
 tainly shown himself to be most generous.
 
 LIFE 39 
 
 With Ms talents and ambition, and with her at 
 his side continually to spur him on, there was 
 nothing that they might not hope for. And to 
 have a great position in the world, with all the 
 money and power that that entailed, was a stake 
 worth playing for. It fairly dazzled her to 
 think of it. 
 
 And they would be perfectly safe, thanks to 
 Mrs. Watson's discretion. Grace gratefully ac- 
 knowledged to herself her indebtedness. It was 
 entirely owing to her that the quiet apartment 
 and the good neighborhood had been selected. 
 And it was she who had managed to spread the 
 report through the house that the beautiful 
 tenant was a rich, young widow whose grief for 
 the loss of her elderly husband was beginning 
 to be softened after two years of mourning. 
 No, their future need not be darkened by the 
 fear of any old scandal coming out of the past. 
 
 On the night of her return she wrote Tom a 
 playful little note, indicating that he might once 
 more hope to be restored to favor if he showed 
 himself properly contrite at dinner the next 
 night. He was to call for her at seven. 
 
 But half after seven found Grace, more 
 beautiful than ever in a most becoming new 
 gown, already beginning to be annoyed at her 
 lover's lack of punctuality. During the next 
 hour she passed from violent temper to a 
 whimpering anxiety for fear some accident had 
 befallen him. But when, at a quarter after ten, 
 a messenger arrived with a curt note, explain-
 
 40 LIFE 
 
 ing that owing to the fact that some out-of-town 
 friends had arrived, he would not be able to 
 take her to dinner, nor, indeed, see her for 
 several days, she gave way to an hysterical rage 
 that if it didn't frighten a veteran like Mrs. 
 Watson, at least made her piously thankful that 
 the house was sufficiently old-fashioned to have 
 thick walls. It would have taxed even her in- 
 genuity to have explained away the distracted 
 "widow's" language. 
 
 When at last Grace had smashed most of the 
 perishable things within reach and, completely 
 exhausted, had let herself be put to bed, Mrs. 
 Watson sat down to her own spoiled dinner 
 with an expression that was positively beatific. 
 Verily, the stars in their courses were fighting 
 for her.! 
 
 For two days the mistress of the establish- 
 ment stormed and sulked by turns. At one 
 moment she was furiously jealous of the un- 
 known woman for, of course, it was a woman 
 who threatened her supremacy; at the next 
 she was dully resentful at being disciplined like 
 a naughty child. 
 
 Had she been at all given to self-analysis, 
 she would have realized that her resolution to 
 marry Tom had had its origin solely in the fact 
 that she was as much in love with him as it 
 was possible for a woman of her selfish nature 
 to be, and not, as she flattered herself, in any 
 well-thought-out plan. 
 
 Mrs. Watson was too experienced la hus-
 
 LIFE 41 
 
 bandman not to recognize that the ground was 
 plowed for the sowing. By the time Burnett 
 returned at the end of the week, she had suc- 
 ceeded in persuading her companion to follow 
 her advice in every particular. 
 
 When he arrived, bearing a peace offering in 
 the shape of a bouquet of costly orchids, he 
 found Grace in one of her most puzzling moods. 
 All through dinner they had chosen one of 
 the quieter restaurants, where the noisy Broad- 
 way crowd never came she was her most mis- 
 chievous and provoking self, teasing, alluring, 
 enticing and ridiculing him; one moment as 
 naive as a schoolgirl, the next cynically witty. 
 
 But with the arrival of the coffee and liquors 
 all her gayety vanished. Looking up sud- 
 denly, Burnett was startled to find her gazing 
 at him with tear-brimmed eyes. 
 
 "Why, Grace, my darling, what is the mat- 
 ter?" 
 
 It was nothing, it seemed. She was sorry. 
 Only only for the moment she really couldn't 
 help it. She had cried so much lately. 
 She was a little unstrung, that was all. He 
 mustn 't mind. She promised not to make such 
 an exhibition of herself again. And under the 
 table she convulsively returned the pressure of 
 Ms hand. 
 
 It was then that he realized what a brute he 
 had been. After all, clever and worldly as she 
 was in most ways, at heart she was only a child. 
 He ought to have remembered that! He had
 
 42 LIFE 
 
 not dreamed that she would be so wounded by 
 his coldness. He saw now how easy it would 
 be to mold her. In spite of her fitful spells 
 of waywardness, she could be easily controlled 
 through her affections. The sooner they were 
 married the better. He had an impulse to pro- 
 pose that they run up to Stamford, where so 
 many runaway couples went, and be married 
 that night. But before he could make any such, 
 suggestion, she had brought up the subject of 
 their marriage herself. 
 
 Had Mrs. Watson been able to be present, 
 she would have been proud of her pupil. 
 Without reproaching him, except by implica- 
 tion, she showed how his cruelly cold letter had 
 opened her eyes to the fact that he did not 
 really love her as she dreamed of being loved. 
 Marriage, as he well knew, had never been a 
 part of her scheme of life. But loving him as 
 she did, she had been on the point of sacrificing 
 her independence, in the belief that her love 
 was returned, in spite of the fact that he had 
 more than once wounded her most delicate 
 sensibilities in the attitude he assumed in re- 
 gard to the money she had been obliged to ac- 
 cept from him purely as a loan. 
 
 Entreaties, protestations, vows of sincere 
 contrition were powerless to shake her deter- 
 mination. Marry him now, she would not. The 
 only hope she could give him was that after a 
 long time, certainly not less than a year, if he 
 could convince her of his sincerity, she might
 
 LIFE 43 
 
 follow the dictates of her heart, as she had 
 been on the point of doing only a few days 
 before. 
 
 In the meantime it appeared that her suf- 
 ferings had been so poignant that she could 
 never know another moment's happiness in 
 those rooms, where she had known such heart- 
 ache. She would store the things his things 
 and go away with Mrs. Watson for a while. 
 
 Considering that it would have taken wild 
 horses to drag Grace away from New York, it 
 took a wonderful amount of eloquence to per- 
 suade her not to drive a disheartened man to 
 desperation. 
 
 When he reluctantly left her at her door, it 
 was with the understanding that she would ac- 
 company him on a little business trip to Wash- 
 ington, leaving Mrs. Watson to attend to the 
 dismantling of the apartment. On their return, 
 at the end of the week, she was to take a small 
 suite, still chaperoned by that invaluable lady, 
 at some quiet little hotel, where the manage- 
 ment did not scrutinize too closely the habits 
 of guests who paid well and promptly. 
 
 Once back in his own rooms, no longer under 
 the immediate spell of her beauty, Burnett per- 
 mitted himself to wonder just how much of the 
 little comedy to which his friend had treated 
 him had been genuine. Somehow, Grace, in the 
 role of the simple, trusting heroine, seemed 
 just a shade out of character. But he paid her 
 cleverness the tribute of admitting that for
 
 44 LIFE 
 
 the moment he had certainly been taken in. He 
 was ready to stand by his offer to marry her 
 to-morrow. He acknowledged to himself that 
 he was so far under the spell of her fascina- 
 tion and her beauty. But in a moment of hon- 
 est introspection he admitted that by the end 
 of his probation he would probably feel very 
 differently. 
 
 Doubtless Mrs. Watson numbered among her 
 unhappy experiences some dealing with storage 
 warehouses, which she judged it prudent not 
 to repeat. At all events, having paid off the 
 cook and given her a liberal tip, in lieu of the 
 usual notice, thus removing the embarrassment 
 of her turning up later on as a witness, she 
 proceeded to dispose, at quite remarkable 
 prices, of everything the apartment contained. 
 
 With the money thus obtained safely in the 
 bank, deposited to her own credit, she felt that 
 the first step toward securing her future was 
 made. And if she couldn't get something "on 
 Grace ' ' before the day when she would be asked 
 to give an account of her stewardship well, 
 she wasn't going to worry herself about that. 
 Heaven knew that she had had enough troubles 
 without discounting the future. All of which 
 shows that Mrs. Watson was, in her small way, 
 a philosopher.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 RALPH STUYVESANT had been connected with 
 the great house of which his father was the 
 head a little over eighteen months when he was 
 married, with due pomp and circumstance, to 
 Anna, only child of the late Hermann Suydam, 
 in old Saint Mark's-in-the-Bouerie, where his 
 fathers had plighted their troth before him. 
 Ruth always declared that her father regarded 
 a marriage celebrated in any other church as 
 being of doubtful legality. 
 
 Rarely do two people begin their married life 
 under more favorable auguries. Both were 
 young. The bride, an orphan, was pretty and 
 accomplished; moreover, she possessed a small 
 fortune in her own right. And certainly no 
 young man in the city possessed more bril- 
 liant prospects than Ralph Stuyvesant. Fi- 
 nally, the match had the approval of the family 
 connections on both sides. 
 
 The elder Stuyvesant allowed himself to 
 draw the happiest portents from the fact that 
 his son was following the family tradition in 
 every respect. That he had so far given only 
 casual attention to his purely nominal duties, 
 and exhibited an indifference and lack of in- 
 terest concerning the affairs of the bank, which 
 could only be explained on the ground that he 
 
 45
 
 46 LIFE 
 
 was having his fling, in common with puppies, 
 colts and the young of all species, his father 
 preferred to believe. 
 
 He never denied that he had been a little wild 
 himself. To be sure, he had never allowed his 
 pleasures to interfere with his business. But 
 young men nowadays didn't seem to have the 
 stamina their elders had. They were no longer 
 able to attend to both business and pleasure. 
 Ealph had, as was only natural at his time of 
 life, chosen to devote his attention for a year 
 or two to his pleasure. In short, in his heart, 
 the father acknowledged that the son was a 
 weakling. 
 
 But marriage would fix all that. Had any- 
 one suggested to Mr. Stuyvesant that he was 
 in the least superstitious, he would have been 
 both indignant and astonished. But the fact 
 remained that he invested the marriage rite 
 with extraordinary, supernatural qualities. It 
 was to transform his son from a weak man into 
 a strong one; from an idle and dissipated scat- 
 terling into a serious, industrious man of 
 affairs. 
 
 For with Mr. Stuyvesant business was a sort 
 of religion. He sincerely believed that the 
 head of a great bank was in a position of re- 
 sponsibility and trust second to none in the 
 land. Had anything ever even threatened the 
 credit of Stuyvesant and Company, his own 
 vast fortune, partly acquired by inheritance, 
 but largely the result of his own foresight and
 
 LIFE 47 
 
 prudence, would have instantly been turned 
 over to the trustees. It would have never en- 
 tered his honest old head that any other course 
 was possible. 
 
 He had not as yet allowed himself to enter- 
 tain the idea that his only son was not to suc- 
 ceed him. Even if he should not develop along 
 the lines which had made every Stuyvesant who 
 had preceded him a power in the financial world, 
 he could at least, by application and industry, 
 make himself worthy to be the nominal head of 
 a house which had had the same name from the 
 beginning. Honesty was, of course, as much a 
 part of his heritage as wealth. 
 
 And it was marriage that was to work this 
 miracle. But, as has been shown, it had failed 
 to perform any of the wonders upon which the 
 old gentleman had confidently counted. 
 
 Ralph became, if possible, more dissipated 
 and extravagant than ever. With blind confi- 
 dence in Burnett, the father was always beg- 
 ging him to exercise his influence over his son, 
 little knowing how baleful that influence was. 
 For in his friend's weakness Burnett saw his 
 long-waited-for opportunity. 
 
 He encouraged Ealph in all his extrava- 
 gances, pointing out that there was plenty of 
 time to sober down when he was a little older. 
 For his own purposes he screened him as much 
 as possible from his father, lending him from 
 time to time the money for his more pressing 
 debts. If Ealph had ever heard of Grace An-
 
 48 LIFE 
 
 drews, or known of his friend's connection with 
 her, he might have wondered how he managed 
 to get on on his comparatively modest salary, 
 to say nothing of his always being able to raise 
 funds for his own too frequent crises. 
 
 The truth was that Burnett had received an 
 advance, more important from the point of 
 view of responsibility than from the financial. 
 He had been put in charge of the vault, where 
 the securities were kept. It was an easy mat- 
 ter for him to inform himself as to what se- 
 curities out of the millions intrusted to his 
 care were unlikely to be called for for some 
 time. There was a risk about "borrowing" 
 any of them; but then there were risks in any 
 business venture. He easily persuaded himself 
 that the opportunity, the supreme chance which 
 was to make or mar him, had come. 
 
 Coincident with his promotion, the fabled 
 aunts in the West, whom his friend Davidson 
 secretly regarded as "a pair of old pikers," 
 apparently awoke after a long period of in- 
 activity. And they may have been said to have 
 aroused themselves to some purpose. 
 
 Davidson found himself, more than once, on 
 the verge of apologizing to the nephew for the 
 contempt in which he had formerly held them. 
 He privately made up his mind that the two old 
 ladies had suddenly gone mad, they plunged to 
 such an extent. He only hoped their madness 
 might last. They certainly were a pair of fairy 
 godmothers to the junior member of the firm
 
 LIFE 49 
 
 of Davidson and Post. And what securities 
 they produced when called upon. And his 
 friend Burnett was their favorite relative. 
 Well, some people were just born lucky! He 
 had an aunt or two himself not so badly off in 
 this world's goods, but they would faint away 
 if anyone suggested their playing parcheesi for 
 a nickel a corner. He could see them in the 
 stock market. 
 
 But somehow, let him play cautiously, or let 
 him play recklessly, the result was always the 
 same Burnett never got far enough ahead to 
 make it pay. It was a continual, nerve-racking 
 seesaw, the gains balancing the losses. Cer- 
 tainly he was never far enough ahead of the 
 game to pay him for the attendant anxiety. 
 There was always the risk of the "borrowed" 
 securities being missed. He had had to ask 
 favors more than once of his friend Davidson. 
 And while his opinion of the young broker 's in- 
 telligence was not of the highest, he wasn't ex- 
 actly a fool. He had once or twice surprised 
 an expression on his face that bordered on the 
 suspicious. 
 
 He suddenly displayed a violent interest in 
 the personality of the Western aunts; specu- 
 lated as to why they never came East, insisted 
 that Burnett press them to come on. He even 
 went to the length of swearing to immolating 
 himself in the sacred cause of showing them a 
 good time, vowing to personally conduct them 
 to church, or to the Eden Musee, should that be
 
 50 LIFE 
 
 their idea of amusement. There were moments 
 when Burnett could gladly have strangled him, 
 so irritated was he by these and similar pleas- 
 antries. 
 
 For a long period he had prudently laid aside 
 a sum which was to get him out of the country, 
 should he ever be caught. But as time went on, 
 and his luck became no better, he had had to 
 draw heavily on this reserve fund for current 
 expenses. The devil himself seemed to be play- 
 ing against him in more directions than one. 
 Grace, for example, seemed to be possessed of 
 the very demon of restlessness and extrava- 
 gance. She had completely changed ever since 
 their return from Washington, now over a year 
 ago the trip they had taken after their first 
 quarrel. 
 
 Their first quarrel ! How long ago it seemed. 
 They rarely met now without quarreling. And 
 all because of her outrageous extravagance. 
 How different she had been when she first came 
 up to town! Then she was most careful and 
 economical. He recalled, with a curl of his lip, 
 the account books and the fiction which she had 
 kept up about only borrowing the money from 
 him. She had practically turned him out of 
 the house for showing that he did not believe 
 in her sincerity. 
 
 Well, there certainly was no pretense of 
 keeping accounts now or of ''borrowing," 
 either. The bills she ran up! He had been 
 mad enough to open accounts for her at any
 
 LIFE 51 
 
 number of the best shops. And they never 
 dined quietly, alone, together, any more. She 
 had insisted upon meeting his friends. And he, 
 proud of her beauty and wit, had been glad to 
 show her off to a whole lot of rackety fellows, 
 who were not slow to congratulate him on his 
 luck. He had known how to protest against 
 their insinuations in a manner that served only 
 to turn suspicion into certainty. Consequently, 
 she insisted on going every night to the restau- 
 rants where the lights were brightest and the 
 company the fastest. And if he didn't take her, 
 there was always one of those cursed men he 
 had introduced her to who would, and gladly. 
 
 He had made a mistake. He was to blame 
 more than she. He was just enough to ac- 
 knowledge that to himself, if he wouldn't to her. 
 And he was to blame, too, for not frankly tell- 
 ing her that he couldn't keep up the pace. He 
 never doubted that she cared more for him 
 than she did for anyone else. If he only could 
 bring himself to tell her frankly that he was 
 not, and never had been, as well off as he had 
 pretended to be. He was sure that there was 
 still enough good in her, enough generosity to 
 respond to a direct appeal. 
 
 As it was, she constantly accused him of 
 meanness and pretended to think he was 
 squandering his money on other women. The 
 subject of marriage had not come up between 
 them for a long time. Apparently, she was 
 perfectly content to let things go on in the
 
 52 LIFE 
 
 same old way. And as for him, while he was 
 by no means as eager to marry her as he had 
 once been, there were times when he felt a per- 
 fect rage of jealousy at the thought of any other 
 man possessing her. In general, he, too, was 
 contented with things as they were. 
 
 But there came a time when things couldn't 
 go on any longer. For nearly a month things 
 had gone steadily against him. Davidson was 
 continually calling on him for more securities. 
 Once he had even been imprudent enough to call 
 him up on the telephone at the bank. The only 
 chance to come out even was to plunge more 
 wildly than ever. Luck couldn't always be 
 against him. But the time had come when 
 Ealph must be equally involved. Old Stuy- 
 vesant would simply have to make good, if it- 
 came to a question of his son's good name. 
 
 By a fortunate chance Ralph was in a worse 
 hole than usual. A young lady of the chorus, 
 in whom he was for the time being interested, 
 happened to fancy a diamond and emerald 
 pendant. The jeweler had been restive for some 
 months, and was now threatening to take the 
 bill to his father. As usual, he sent a hurry 
 call to Tom for help, being, as always, "stony 
 broke" himself. 
 
 They had dined alone at Ealph 's house, his 
 wife having run down to Atlantic City for a 
 few days with a party of friends, and were 
 having their coffee in the room Ralph called 
 his "den." Burnett had listened to the con*
 
 LIFE 53 
 
 fession of this new folly and the vows of refor- 
 mation which accompanied it with unusual 
 gravity. 
 
 "I'm devilishly sorry for you, Ealph. You 
 know I'd help you if I could. But I give you 
 my sacred word, I'm absolutely cleaned out my- 
 self. Can't you keep the old fool quiet a bit 
 longer?" 
 
 "He gives me a week; swears that he won't 
 wait an hour longer. One week from to-day, 
 by noon at latest, the money must be in his 
 hands. The hound even had the damned impu- 
 dence to tell me that when he said 'money' he 
 didn't mean a check!" 
 
 "You don't mean," said Tom, genuinely 
 startled, "that he refused to take a check of 
 yours?" 
 
 "No, not quite so bad as that. But he did 
 mean that I couldn't get any more delay by 
 sending him a check, as I might have done." 
 
 "Oh, I see." 
 
 "Now, see here, Tom. You've got to help 
 me out of this some way. I swear I'll never 
 make such a fool of myself again. ' ' 
 
 "My dear boy, I think I've helped you often 
 enough to have the right to expect to be 
 believed when I say I simply can't do a 
 thing." 
 
 "Oh, I'm not doubting that. But for heav- 
 en's sake, think of some way out. You've got 
 twice the head I have. And beside, I'm wor- 
 ried nearly crazy!"
 
 54 LIFE 
 
 "Yon wouldn't consider going to your father 
 just this once more! Now that you've really 
 resolved that it sha'n't happen again, I think 
 he'd look at it differently." 
 
 With an impatient gesture, Ealph started to 
 walk toward the window without looking in his 
 friend's direction. He didn't see the sneer 
 that curled Burnett's lip. 
 
 "I'd blow my head off first!" 
 
 "Buth your sister, then. You've been to 
 her before. ' ' 
 
 "It would come to the same thing. She's on 
 an allowance; and while the old gentleman is 
 always generous with her, she couldn't possibly 
 have as much as that in ready cash. She'd go 
 to him and that would make matters worse than 
 ever, if they could be worse. He'd fly in an 
 extra rage because I hadn't come to him direct. 
 No, you must think of something else." 
 
 Burnett got up and began to pace the floor 
 in his turn. 
 
 ' ' No, no ! That would be impossible ; it 's too 
 much of a risk," he said, as if to himself. 
 
 "What's too much of a risk? There isn't 
 any risk I wouldn 't take to save me from a cer- 
 tainty. What's the idea?" 
 
 "Nothing. I tell you it's too risky. Be- 
 sides, it wouldn't be right." 
 
 "Good God! What are you maundering 
 about? Do you know any place I could borrow 
 the money? I don't care what interest I have 
 to pay. I tell you I've never been in such a fix
 
 LIFE 55 
 
 in all my life. I promised the old man I would 
 cut out the 'merry-merry' for good and all 
 after I was married. I only intended having 
 a harmless little flirtation with the damned 
 little devil. But the first thing I knew I was 
 in pretty deep. I must have been drunk when I 
 promised her that hellish pendant. But I'd 
 given my word and " 
 
 His voice trailed off into silence for a mo- 
 ment as the thought came to him that any high- 
 flown sentiments on the sacredness of his word 
 might sound a trifle ridiculous to one who knew 
 how often it had been broken. As yet, any sus- 
 picion that Burnett was not almost as much of 
 a paragon as his father considered him had 
 not entered Ralph's simple mind, so skillfully 
 had that gentleman played his cards. 
 
 "What's the idea?" he repeated. 
 
 "Why," said Burnett slowly, "I was only 
 thinking that I happened to have some inside 
 information that U. S. Steel was going to be 
 pretty active within a day or two. I'm pretty 
 friendly with young Davidson. You know him, 
 don't you? I've dabbled a little in the market 
 occasionally for some of the people back home 
 on tips he's given me. He's always been right. 
 And now he thinks there's a chance to make a 
 fortune for anyone who has the money. You 
 couldn't fail to pick up a few thousands before 
 the week is out, if you cared to try it." 
 
 "What with?" said Ralph explosively. "I 
 tell you I haven't a sou. I'm so overdrawn at
 
 56 LIFE 
 
 the bank that I wouldn't dare draw another 
 check. ' ' 
 
 "If you only had those bonds your father 
 gave you your last birthday ! ' ' 
 
 11 Pawned. I told you that six months ago. 
 You didn't suppose I'd been able to get them 
 out, the way things have been going ? ' ' 
 
 * ' There we are ! ' ' said Burnett with a shrug. 
 ' 'Lord ! When I think of that vault that I have 
 to go to every day! It's full of gilt-edged 
 things that nobody '11 think of wanting for the 
 next six months." He threw himself into a 
 chair and began to poke the fire without look- 
 ing at his companion. For a long moment 
 neither of them spoke. 
 
 Ralph went over to a small table in the corner 
 of the room and poured himself a generous 
 drink. 
 
 "So that's what you were getting at when 
 you said 'It was too risky' and 'It wouldn't be 
 right,' " he said huskily. 
 
 "I don't know what you mean," said Burnett 
 with affected innocence. 
 
 "Oh, yes, you do. We understand each other 
 perfectly. Only," said poor Ealph, with a sort 
 of honest scorn, "don't let's be afraid of call- 
 ing things by their right names. I'm game to 
 steal the securities to speculate with if you are 
 this once. But if I get myself out of this hole, 
 never again, so help me!" 
 
 "Of course not," said Burnett. "I never 
 would have thought of such a thing if there had
 
 LIFE 57 
 
 been any other way. And, as you say, your 
 case seems to be pretty desperate. Only you 
 must stand by me and take your share of the 
 risk, which honestly, I think, is of the slightest. 
 Davidson swears that his information comes 
 from a source that can't be doubted." 
 
 "When can you pull it off?" asked Ralph. 
 shortly. 
 
 "To-morrow." 
 
 "And what do you want from me?" 
 
 "Well, naturally, since I'm the one who 
 would be held responsible, I want you to sign 
 a paper saying that we're in on the deal to- 
 gether. If things turn out all right, we divide 
 the profits, if not " 
 
 "We go to jail together," finished Ralph. 
 
 "t)on't talk such nonsense," said Burnett 
 roughly. "Your father 'd make good, if the 
 worst came to the worst." 
 
 "I'm not so sure of that," said Ralph grimly. 
 "There's paper and things over in that desk. 
 Go and write what you want and I'll sign it. 
 I'd sign a contract with the old boy himself, 
 the way I feel to-night." 
 
 Burnett crossed over to the desk and, seeing 
 that Ralph was staring moodily into the fire, 
 slipped an agreement which he had already 
 drawn up from his pocket and proceeded to 
 copy it. 
 
 "There, I think that covers everything." 
 
 "Yes, I think it does. I see," said Ralph, 
 with grim humor, ' ' that I get all the credit of
 
 58 LIFE 
 
 the idea. 'At the suggestion of said Ralph 
 Stuyvesant, said Thomas Burnett consented to 
 withdraw temporarily from the vault commit- 
 ted to his charge certain ' Oh, hell! What 
 
 a damned hypocrite you are ! ' ' 
 
 "You don't seem to remember that if it were 
 found out, I'd be looking for a job and that 
 Stuyvesant and Company might hesitate about 
 giving me a character." 
 
 "I get this damned paper back, if we pull it 
 off. Mind you, I'll never take a chance like 
 this again." 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 Ralph hesitated no longer. Fortified with 
 another drink, he signed the document with a 
 hasty indifference suggesting that he had al- 
 ready dismissed all thoughts of possible conse- 
 quences from his mind. He tossed it over to 
 his friend, who carefully folded it away in his 
 billcase. 
 
 "And now," said Ralph, "let's get out 
 of this. This place gives me the Willies 
 to-night. I suppose our little business is fin- 
 ished." 
 
 "I suppose you are going home to your vir- 
 tuous couch," he continued, as they stood to- 
 gether at the foot of the steps in front of his 
 house. "I don't mind letting you know that I 
 propose to get boiling drunk, and that I don't 
 expect to be cold sober again until you bring 
 me the glad tidings that I can once more become 
 a financially respectable member of society, or
 
 LIFE 59 
 
 the less cheerful news that my new spring 
 wardrobe will be furnished by the State." 
 
 And hailing a passing taxi, he ironically 
 wished Burnett "pleasant dreams," his offer 
 to drop him at his own door having been de- 
 clined. 
 
 Once the cab had turned the corner, Burnett 
 unfastened his coat and filled his lungs with a 
 long breath. 
 
 "I wonder if my hair's turned gray," he 
 laughed to himself. ' * I never could have pulled 
 it off if I had let myself think for more than a 
 moment what it would mean to have him refuse. 
 But while I was waiting for him to speak and 
 sat poking the fire, I could read 'South Amer- 
 ica' in the coals. I more than half believe that 
 he guesses that I've been playing the game for 
 some time. Well, what of it? He can think 
 what he chooses now that I have this paper in 
 my pocket ! ' ' 
 
 Standing outside his own door, the key al- 
 ready in the lock, he suddenly changed his 
 mind. 
 
 "I could no more sleep than I could fly," he 
 said. "I'll go up and get Grace. She's always 
 ready to go out to supper. Besides, I haven't 
 seen her for two days."
 
 CHAPTEE V 
 
 IF there be such a thing as a personal devil, 
 lie must have smiled contentedly during the 
 week which followed Burnett's conference with 
 Ralph. For their luck certainly changed with a 
 completeness only equaled by its suddenness. 
 At the end of four days, Burnett was able to 
 show Ealph the recovered securities, as he was 
 carrying them under his coat, back to the vault, 
 and better still, turn over to him eighteen thou- 
 sand dollars as lr'3 share in their little venture. 
 
 It was one of Ralph's characteristics to run 
 to the extremes of feeling. He was always 
 either extraordinarily elated, or correspond- 
 ingly cast down. For the moment, the reaction 
 after the suspense and anxiety of the last week 
 led him to commit fresh follies in the way of ex- 
 penditure. Having paid off his most pressing 
 bills, he used the greater part of the remaining 
 sum so easily acquired in buying his wife a 
 ring she had long coveted, and in dispatching 
 a beautifully fitted dressing-case to the lady who 
 had been the immediate cause of his late diffi- 
 culties, now, fortunately, en tour. 
 
 Having let off steam in this fashion, it really 
 looked as if his lesson was to have some bene- 
 ficial effects. For several weeks, to his father's 
 infinite gratification, he became a model of punc-
 
 LIFE 61 
 
 tuality and attention to business. His relations 
 with Burnett, while superficially exactly the 
 same as ever, became just a little awkward the 
 moment they found themselves alone together. 
 From the time they had first met as boys, Kalph 
 had always looked up to his friend, had always 
 regarded him as an immensely superior person 
 of unusual ability, charm and force of char- 
 acter. 
 
 There had been times, to be sure, after they 
 had grown older, when he had secretly looked 
 upon him as a bit of a prig, almost a spoil- 
 sport. For Burnett would never join him in 
 any of his mad escapades, was temperate to a 
 degree, and, no doubt the greatest reason of- 
 all, was continually being quoted to him as a 
 model of all that a young man should be, by 
 his father. 
 
 The moral shock of the revelation of his true 
 character could hardly be measured. Ralph was 
 by no means deficient in native intelligence. It 
 would have taken stronger evidence than Bur- 
 nett's bare word to convince him that he had 
 been a partner in the first assault that had ever 
 been made on the vault containing the securities. 
 The whole plan was too daring a one ever to 
 have been entered upon on a first impulse, by 
 any but a practiced criminal, however un- 
 scrupulous. And, in spite of his pretended hesi- 
 tations, his backings and fillings, Ealph now saw 
 clearly that he had walked blindly into a trap 
 already long prepared for his feet. His long
 
 62 LIFE 
 
 habit of calling upon his friend to help him out 
 of his constantly recurring difficulties, his blind 
 confidence in him, both as friend and guide, had 
 but too well prepared the way for his own 
 downfall. 
 
 During the weeks that followed his first abso- 
 lutely dishonest act, he felt impelled, more than 
 once, to throw himself on his father's mercy and 
 confess the whole disgraceful transaction. For 
 days at a time, he pointedly avoided Burnett, 
 making all sorts of excuses to get out of walk- 
 ing uptown with him after business hours, as 
 was their usual habit. In the end, he lacked the 
 courage to save himself from the net which he 
 felt closing around him. For Ralph was a 
 coward as well as a weakling. 
 
 Gradually, he began to excuse himself with all 
 sorts of sophistries. He could not make a con- 
 fession without involving Burnett, to whom, 
 after all, he was greatly indebted. And ingrati- 
 tude could never be anything but base. Then, 
 too, while technically he had done wrong, ac- 
 tually he had only taken what some day must 
 be his own. His father was getting to be an 
 old man. In a few years at most, all this wealth 
 would be his and Ruth's. It was an axiom that 
 circumstances altered cases. 
 
 He even succeeded in working himself up to 
 a virtuous indignation against Burnett. It was 
 an entirely different matter with him. He was 
 in the position of a trusted employee; not at 
 all the same thing. He resolved, more than
 
 LIFE 63 
 
 once, to speak to him on the subject. Of course 
 he would do it in a perfectly friendly way, some 
 day when he could do so quite naturally without 
 having to make the opportunity. And then, sud- 
 denly, for the first time, he recalled that 
 wretched paper to which he had signed his 
 name, which Burnett still had. He didn't re- 
 member clearly just what its purport was. He 
 had been fearfully drunk later that night and 
 for several days following. Indeed, he had had 
 a pretty good start before they had finished 
 dinner. That was another thing he was going 
 to do: let up on the drink. He had always 
 found it hard to recall what he did or said 
 when he was full, but, lately, it was almost im- 
 possible to remember things that happened 
 some little time before he ''went under." He 
 wished he knew just exactly the phrasing of 
 that paper. 
 
 But since he had let it go so long, it would be 
 better not to make its recovery seem too impor- 
 tant by asking for it too abruptly. That was an- 
 other of those things that had to be done at the 
 psychological moment. PoorEalph! It would be 
 investing Burnett with nothing short of super- 
 natural powers of divination to say that he was 
 able to follow all the mental processes of his 
 dupe in detail. But speaking largely, he had 
 long since learned to read him like a book. 
 Consequently, he noted Ralph's studied avoid- 
 ance of his society with secret amusement, 
 understanding perfectly its cause.
 
 64 LIFE 
 
 It did not require any great astuteness to 
 foresee that the day could not be far off when 
 the eighteen thousand dollars would be ex- 
 hausted. Kalph had admitted sending the lady 
 of the chorus a parting gift with a note intimat- 
 ing that, like all good things, their friendship 
 had come to an end, and Anna was too childishly 
 pleased with her new ring not to display it to 
 everyone she knew. 
 
 And, most important thing of all, at least 
 from Burnett's point of view, Ralph had never 
 alluded to the incriminating paper which bore 
 his signature. To one who understood his 
 vacillating and cowardly nature, this was not so 
 astonishing. But Burnett saw how he could 
 make capital out of his hesitation. Naturally, 
 he had no intention of parting with a document 
 so vital to his own safety. Had Ralph ever 
 summoned up his courage to demand it, he 
 would have evaded, or resorted to bluff. 
 
 He waited until one day after they had resumed 
 their old intimacy and were strolling uptown 
 on their way home. They had reached Bur- 
 nett's door, when Ralph, with an attempt to ap- 
 pear quite casual, said : 
 
 ' ' Oh, by the way, Tom, could you let me have 
 a few hundred until week after next! Anna's 
 dressmaker is bothering her, and I'm over- 
 drawn again, and my allowance isn't due for ten 
 
 ' * Certainly, ' ' said Burnett cordially. ' ' Come 
 in and I'll write you a check."
 
 LIFE 65 
 
 "Of course it's none of my business," lie said 
 with a light laugh, as he sat down at his desk, 
 "but how on earth did you manage to get 
 away with all that money you made last 
 month?" 
 
 "Dead horses," said Ralph laconically. 
 
 "Too bad. I don't know of any way of 
 spending money that seems quite so unsatis- 
 factory." 
 
 * ' By the way, ' ' he went on carelessly, ' ' David- 
 son called up this morning. It seems he has 
 another sure thing. Told him I didn't think the 
 people I represented cared to do anything in 
 his line just now. He said he'd call up again 
 in a day or two and see if they'd changed their 
 minds. That reminds me : I've never given you 
 back that little memo, of our agreement. It's 
 safe enough. I locked it up somewhere. I'll 
 hunt it up, unless you think you'd sometime 
 want to take another flyer." 
 
 "Not without you, thanks." 
 
 "I don't see what that's got to do with it." 
 
 "Don't you!" 
 
 "Do you think for one moment," said Ralph 
 with sudden heat, "that I'm damned fool 
 enough to believe that you never tried your little 
 game before you roped me into going in with 
 you?" 
 
 Burnett considered a moment, looking out of 
 the window. 
 
 "No," he said quietly, "I don't mind telling
 
 66 LIFE 
 
 you that I've done it any number of times. 
 What of it!" 
 
 "What of it! Supposing I were to do the 
 decent thing and go to my father with the 
 whole story?" 
 
 * ' You, ' ' Burnett sneered. ' l In the first place, 
 you're not man enough. In the second, what if 
 you did? I would admit that we had slipped up 
 once, produce our little piece of paper, by way 
 of confession, and deny that I had ever touched 
 a single security, except in the way of legitimate 
 business, before. And there wouldn't be any 
 possible way of proving that I wasn't telling 
 the truth." 
 
 "Why, you've just admitted it to me!" 
 
 "My dear Ealph, what a baby you are! I 
 should, of course, swear I'd never said any such 
 thing, and you have no witnesses. I remember 
 that you once accused me of being a hypocrite 
 in not calling things by their proper names. All 
 right; let's do so. Do you suppose that one 
 thief's word is not just as good as another's! 
 I think you '11 find it is." 
 
 Ealph made a despairing gesture. 
 
 "Now, why not look at things sensibly and 
 like a man. You can't possibly live on your 
 salary and allowance. Your father doesn't 
 realize that the whole scale of living has 
 changed since his day. You're always having 
 the life badgered out of you by people to whom 
 you owe money. What's the answer! You've 
 never been able to find any. Here's what I'd
 
 LIFE 67 
 
 do in your place. Every time I could get a 
 real tip on the market, I'd take a chance. You 
 only need two or three good days to give you 
 enough money to go on with for ever so long. 
 By and by, you could save enough to speculate 
 with on your own hook. In the meantime, what 
 are you doing after all? Borrowing what will 
 some day be your own in order to get out of 
 debt and be able to devote your time to buckling 
 down to business with an untroubled mind. The 
 result will be that you will be able to please 
 your father more than you have ever done in 
 your life. Don't think I don't know how hard 
 it is for you. ' ' 
 
 "There's a good deal in what you say. I've 
 thought of it myself. But, Lord, I haven't the 
 nerve." 
 
 "That's where I come in. I stand in well 
 with Davidson. He'll protect us when we need 
 it, for of course we can't win all the time. I'll 
 only act when I have a number one tip. And 
 we'll split even on the results. What do you 
 say?" 
 
 "Go ahead. I'm on. Only, for God's sake 
 be careful." 
 
 "Trust me for that. And now let's have a 
 little drink to the health and prosperity of the 
 new firm of Stuyvesant and Burnett." 
 
 "He is a fool," said Burnett to himself, after 
 Ealph had gone. "I was all over gooseflesh 
 when he talked of going to his father. It 
 wouldn't take the old man long to find enough
 
 68 LIFE 
 
 proofs to send me up for life. A few words 
 from Davidson about my dear old aunts in the 
 country would have been all they needed. But 
 I've knocked that idea out of his head, and I've 
 got him where I want him at last. Now, I have 
 a chance to make my pile. And if I go to smash 
 well, there'll be a Stuyvesant to keep me 
 company. ' ' 
 
 The history of the three years that followed 
 can be briefly told. Burnett, of course, paid nd 
 attention to his pledge to wait for good tips. 
 He plunged constantly with varying fortune. 
 There were times when they were far enough 
 ahead of the game to have satisfied anyone of 
 reasonable desires. Again, their losses were 
 enough to have sobered them had they only to 
 face losing their own money. Time after time, 
 they only escaped detection by a miracle. 
 
 Through every chance, Burnett kept his cool 
 head. But the effect of the continual strain on 
 Ralph was to plunge him further into fresh dis- 
 sipation. His father had at last nearly given 
 up hope that he would ever be more than a trial 
 and an anxiety. One thing only remained to be 
 tried. Humiliate him before his associates and 
 the world by promoting Burnett, in whom his 
 confidence remained boundless, over his head. 
 
 During this time, Burnett had abandoned all 
 thoughts of marrying Grace. He saw now that 
 she could never be anything but a stumbling- 
 block as a wife, however desirable she might be 
 as a mistress. He must marry money. He
 
 LIFE 69 
 
 could hardly have told when it was that he first 
 began to think of Kuth Stuyvesant. He had 
 always thought of her as a child until, suddenly, 
 one night when he was dining at the house, she 
 seemed, in some magical way, to have turned 
 into a charming young woman. 
 
 It was characteristic of him that, once pos- 
 sessed with the idea of making Ruth his wife, he 
 should set about immediately to accomplish his 
 purpose by every means in his power. He soon 
 decided that there would be no opposition on the 
 part of her father, which was, after all, the only 
 obstacle which he might have found it difficult to 
 overcome. Ralph would never dare oppose him, 
 and if he did, his wishes and opinions would 
 have no weight with anyone, much less Ruth 
 herself. And as for Ruth? He had outstripped 
 all rivals with many a woman. Surely the con- 
 quest of the affections of a young inexperienced 
 girl who hardly knew half a dozen men outside 
 of her family and connections would not be diffi- 
 cult, particularly since he had the father whom 
 she idolized on his side. 
 
 There remained one person to be reckoned 
 with Grace. In many ways, she was as much 
 of a puzzle to him as ever. But of one thing he 
 was certain: she would require most delicate 
 handling. He had thought of buying her off, of 
 pensioning her, as it were. But aside from the 
 consideration that Grace, if she should consent 
 to this plan at all, would be sure to drive a hard 
 bargain and demand something more than prom-
 
 70 LIFE 
 
 ises in the way of fulfilment, she had become too 
 much a part of his life, too much of a habit, for 
 him to be willing to consider existence without 
 her. 
 
 No woman had ever held him as she had done. 
 Not by her beauty alone and even to his jeal- 
 ously critical eye her beauty had suffered no 
 diminution with the passing years but by a 
 certain sparkling quality which to him was a 
 constant and never-failing stimulus. In a word, 
 while she might irritate, annoy and even enrage 
 him at times, she never bored him. 
 
 Whereas, he had no illusion that marriage 
 would not, if for no other reason than that it 
 represented a definite tie. He had been free 
 too long not to realize that any chain, even a 
 chain of gold, was sure to prove irksome. Ruth, 
 charming and appealing as she unquestionably 
 was, was only a schoolgirl. He thought that 
 he detected signs of unusual force of character 
 in her already. But it would take time for her 
 to develop. She could never have the fascina- 
 tion for him that Grace had had from the first 
 moment he had seen her. There was no reason, 
 after all, why the relations between Grace and 
 himself should not continue after an interval. 
 How many men he knew who maintained two 
 establishments without any open scandal ! The 
 situation would require careful handling. But 
 he never doubted his ability to carry it through 
 successfully. The first step would be to get his 
 mistress out of the way until his marriage was
 
 LIFE 71 
 
 either an accomplished fact, or at least so defi- 
 nitely settled that she could not upset it. And 
 even if in the first violence of her rage at finding 
 that he was going to marry another woman she 
 should threaten to tell of their relations and 
 she probably would he thought he knew how 
 to quiet her by appealing to her vanity, her love 
 for him, and above all her regard for appear- 
 ances which was largely prompted by her fear of 
 her father. 
 
 Having decided all these things, and arranged 
 his plan of campaign, he lost no time in putting 
 it into execution. 
 
 He was too skillful and practiced a liar not to 
 take advantage of the truth as much as possible. 
 He began by staying away from Grace's hotel 
 for days at a time. But he made it a point to 
 call her up each afternoon on the telephone to 
 explain that he was greatly worried by business 
 and wasn't, in consequence, fit company for man 
 or beast. Grace quickly passed from annoyance 
 to genuine concern. Such conduct was quite 
 unlike Tom. He was generally only too glad to 
 forget his troubles in her society. He had often 
 boasted that he kept business cares for business 
 hours and didn't intend to grow old by worry- 
 ing overtime. 
 
 On the few occasions when he did present 
 himself, he managed to look positively haggard, 
 and was so moody and abstracted, so unlike his 
 usual gay self, that she grew really alarmed. 
 
 Finally, one night when they had dined quietly
 
 72 LIFE 
 
 at home, with every evidence of extreme reluc- 
 tance, he confessed to her that for the time 
 being he was ruined, wiped out by the stock mar- 
 ket. He was about to give up his rooms where 
 he had lived for years he knew, it appeared, a 
 man who would take them off his hands just as 
 they were and camp out in some cheap hotel. 
 It would take months of rigid economy to put 
 him on his feet. He was frightfully in debt. 
 He had thought of telling her the truth about 
 his peculations from the bank, but had decided 
 to keep this last card still up his sleeve. 
 
 There was only one thing to be done, and he 
 asked her to believe that he had gone over every 
 possible plan before coming to a decision. She 
 must go away for a time. Luck was sure to 
 turn. She could not doubt, knowing how empty 
 his life would be without her, that he would 
 send for her at the earliest possible moment. 
 There were lots of places, not half bad, where 
 she and Mrs. Watson could manage to exist for 
 a time. As a matter of fact, he had had to bor- 
 row the money to pay her bill at the hotel the 
 last month. He still had enough left to square 
 things if she would be reasonable and arrange 
 to go within the week. Of course, he still had 
 his modest salary. She could count on his send- 
 ing her a comparatively small sum from time to 
 time. Promising to come up again within a 
 day or two at most, he left her to digest his un- 
 welcome tidings and hold counsel with Mrs. 
 Watson-
 
 LIFE 73 
 
 How much of the story which the excited 
 Grace poured into the ears of her confidante 
 was believed by her, it is impossible to say. 
 Following her usual custom, she declined to 
 commit herself in any way until she had ' * slept 
 on" the news. Mrs. Watson was a firm believer 
 in dreams ; continually asserting that if she had 
 only been wise enough to listen to the voices 
 that advised her in her sleep when she was 
 younger, she would not have been where she 
 was, whatever that may have meant. One thing, 
 however, she did condescend to suggest : that, as 
 Burnett would not be able to join them on the 
 following night, young Mr. Davidson, who was 
 always bright and amusing, be asked to take 
 them out to dinner. 
 
 Grace fell in with this suggestion at once. 
 She knew that Davidson was Burnett's broker 
 through Tom's mentioning it some time before 
 wnen he had asked to bring him up to dinner. 
 It would be a simple matter to pump him dry on 
 the subject of her lover 's losses, that somewhat 
 simple youth being one of her most infatuated 
 adorers. 
 
 The dinner, accordingly, took place and Grace 
 and Mrs. Watson were equally convinced that 
 the tale of Burnett's heavy losses was literally 
 true. 
 
 It affected the two ladies quite differently. 
 Mrs. Watson firmly announced her intention of 
 remaining in New York, at least for the present. 
 An imaginary doctor whom she was constantly
 
 74 LIFE 
 
 consulting for some mysterious malady which 
 always prevented her doing anything that she 
 did not really want to had impressed upon her 
 the necessity of consulting him at least bi- 
 weekly, declining to be responsible for the con- 
 sequences should she leave town at this par- 
 ticular time. Of course, it nearly broke her 
 heart to think of parting from her dear friend, 
 even temporarily; but Grace would be sure to 
 be back in no time Burnett was far too clever 
 a man to suffer more than a passing eclipse of 
 fortune and they would once more be reunited. 
 Besides, as all her friends knew, Mrs. Watson 
 had spent her life in thinking of others. The 
 time had come when she must think a little of 
 herself. 
 
 The fact was that during the years of their 
 stay at the hotel Mrs. Watson had been able to 
 make a most prudent arrangement with the 
 landlord, whom she had found to be a most 
 amiable man, sympathetic and fair-minded to a 
 degree. Grace had all of the indolence of her 
 class and detested details and anything that had 
 to do with figures. It had fallen to the good- 
 natured Mrs. Watson, therefore, to keep track 
 of the current expenses, just as it had done in 
 the days when they were keeping house. Mrs. 
 Watson had always managed to find time to 
 confer with the landlord before the monthly 
 bill was rendered. That her percentage was not 
 small, her quite respectable bank account was a 
 witness. Although she had been able to verify
 
 LIFE 75 
 
 Burnett's story of his losses, Mrs. Watson was 
 by no means convinced that he had not seized 
 this opportunity to break with her fair friend. 
 All men were deceitful and double-dealing. No 
 doubt the time had come when he had decided 
 to marry and settle down. 
 
 She had long ago come to the conclusion that 
 Grace lacked real force of character. With her 
 looks there was no reason why she shouldn't 
 long ago have aspired higher than a young man 
 with his fortune still to make. Well, let her 
 cling to her Tom and wait for him to make his 
 fortune. She, herself, had no time to waste. 
 Her friend, the landlord, had told her of a 
 lodging-house in the neighborhood which she 
 could have at a reasonable figure. With his 
 help, she thought that she knew how to make it 
 succeed. 
 
 Grace, finding herself thus deserted, and being 
 convinced that she would be bored to death any- 
 where away from New York, hit upon the idea 
 of paying her parents a long deferred and often 
 promised visit. That would give her time to 
 decide upon a place to spend her exile. Always 
 disinclined to mention her old home or her 
 family to Tom, she contented herself with tell- 
 ing him that she was going over to Philadelphia 
 for a few days to see some people she knew. 
 As soon as she made any arrangements, she 
 would let him know. 
 
 They had a final dinner together in a secluded 
 restaurant at which they both became astonish-
 
 76 LIFE 
 
 ingly sentimental, vowing eternal fidelity to 
 each other, and planning for the time when 
 they would once more be together. Once back 
 in the little sitting-room of the hotel, now dis- 
 mantled of all the pretty little knickknacks 
 which gave it character and individuality, Bur- 
 nett found himself on the verge of telling her 
 the truth, so genuinely distressed did she ap- 
 pear. But he thought better of it on con- 
 sideration. 
 
 4 'Now remember," he said as he held her in 
 a last embrace, "it may take six months to put 
 me back on my feet. But there is to be no 
 coming to New York, not for a day." 
 
 "I know." 
 
 "And I am not going to see yon. It will be 
 just as hard for me. You know that. You 
 promise? " 
 
 "Yes, I promise." 
 
 And so they parted.
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 IT was a little after nine o'clock when Bur- 
 nett left his club and started to his rooms, 
 which he had not, after all, given up as he had 
 intended. On thinking it over, he had decided 
 that he could retrench quite as much in other 
 ways. While they were spacious and comfort- 
 able, they were simply furnished and not ex- 
 pensive, as rooms in New York went. Until he 
 was once more on his feet, he would cut out 
 dining at expensive restaurants and go to one 
 of his clubs for his dinners. 
 
 Noting the time by the clock in the Metro- 
 politan Tower, he quickened his pace. Ealph 
 would be waiting for him. The hallboy knew 
 him and would let him in. Now Ralph had 
 shown signs during the day of being in one of 
 his worst moods. At such times he was often 
 difficult to handle, and was more than ever in- 
 clined to drink heavily. He knew where the 
 whisky was kept, and if left to himself too 
 long would drink himself into a fighting humor, 
 always the precursor of a prolonged spree. 
 Burnett had his own reasons for wishing to 
 keep him sober. 
 
 He had not intended staying so long at the 
 club. But, somewhat to his surprise, he found 
 that the news of his new honors had leaked 
 77
 
 78 LIFE 
 
 out, and there were a number of men who had 
 detained him with their congratulations. As 
 he went up in the elevator, he remembered that 
 Grace had been gone just two weeks. He sup- 
 posed she was still in Philadelphia. But it was 
 strange that she had not found time to send 
 him a line. 
 
 "What the devil are you sitting in the dark 
 for? I'm sorry I'm late, but I got jawing with 
 some fellows at the club." 
 
 Ralph was lolling in an immense armchair, 
 the whisky and a siphon on a table at his elbow. 
 His only response to his friend's greeting was a 
 sullen scowl. Burnett picked up the decanter 
 and held it up to the light. 
 
 "I'm sorry to seem inhospitable," he said, 
 as he locked it up in the sideboard, "but I think 
 you've had all you need for the evening." 
 
 "Fortunately, I've still got a dollar or two, 
 and saloons are on every corner," said his guest 
 with a sneer. 
 
 "Now, Ralph, for God's sake, don't make an 
 ass of yourself at this particular moment. You 
 know Ruth's terribly keen about getting up that 
 party to go up to New Haven on the coach day 
 after to-morrow. You want to keep fit for that, 
 don't you! " 
 
 " Can't say that I care much. I probably 
 wouldn't be included, if she wasn't taking half 
 the town. ' ' 
 
 " Don't talk like a fool! What's the matter 
 with you anyway! "
 
 LIFE 79 
 
 "I'm sore, that's what's the matter," said 
 Ralph, sitting up with a jerk. " I'm getting a 
 little tired of the treatment I'm getting. After 
 all, I'm still one of the family, I guess. And 
 it's a little humiliating to have to depend on 
 outsiders for news of what's going on." 
 
 "I hope you know what you're talking about. 
 I give you my word I don't." 
 
 "Don't you, indeed?" 
 
 "No, I don't. You're surely not talking 
 about my being taken into the firm? You knew 
 that that was coming as soon as I did." 
 
 ' ' Damn your being taken into the firm ! ' ' 
 
 "Now, look here, my young friend," said Bur- 
 nett with pretended heat, "you ought to thank 
 your lucky stars that it's come just when it has. 
 If it had been delayed a month longer, where 
 would you have been, I'd like to know. The 
 only way I could have stayed things off any 
 longer would have been to blow up the damned 
 building with dynamite." 
 
 "Where would I have been? Where would 
 you have been, you mean." 
 
 "Well, where would we both have been? 
 May I ask if you have any idea what we 
 owe Stuyvesant and Company at the present 
 moment?" 
 
 "No, and I don't want to." 
 
 "Of course not. You are glad enough to 
 take your share of the profits, when there are 
 any; but when it comes to the worry and 
 anxiety, no thank you. You are perfectly will-
 
 80 LIFE 
 
 ing to leave all that to me. Don't be afraid," 
 went on Burnett scornfully, "I've no intention 
 of telling you. You'd only get crazy drunk and 
 tell the whole story to the first person you could 
 get to listen to you. I repeat, I've got into the 
 firm not a day too soon. It's the only thing 
 that could have saved us. And in place of being 
 thankful, you're sore about it." 
 
 "How many times do you want me to tell 
 you that I don't give a whoop in hell whether 
 you're made head of the firm or not? It's 
 another thing altogether." 
 
 "Well, what? Let's get it over." 
 
 Ralph lurched to his feet and stood swaying 
 by the table. He had suddenly become ashy 
 white. His lip was curled in an ugly snarl. 
 Whether he had been drinking before he came, 
 and had had more than Burnett suspected, or 
 for the reason that his brain, already inflamed 
 with alcohol, was thrown off its balance by the 
 violence of his passion, it was impossible to say, 
 but on the instant he had become remarkably 
 drunk. 
 
 "I'm on to your di-dirty scheme. Your 
 pl-pl-plotting to marry my sister. She's she's 
 the only si-sister I've got, an' I won't have it, 
 do you hear, I won' have it," he stammered. 
 " Anna she's m' wife tol' me all 'bout it." 
 And with a final lurch he collapsed into the chair 
 and burst into a fit of maudlin tears. 
 
 "So that's what's troubling you, you poor 
 fool," said Burnett, half to himself. Even as
 
 LIFE 81 
 
 he stood looking down at him, Ralph was asleep. 
 With a disgusted shrug, he picked him up and 
 carried him over to a couch at the end of the 
 room and, having covered him with a warm 
 traveling rug, turned out the lights and went 
 calmly to bed. As he was falling asleep, he 
 wondered again why he had not heard from 
 Grace. 
 
 As it happened, Grace was thinking of him 
 at that very moment. At first, she had en- 
 joyed her visit with her parents even more than 
 she had expected. It was delightful to be made 
 so much of. Thoi, too, she was actress enough 
 to enjoy playing the simple, unsophisticated 
 girl again. Nothing had really changed. Per- 
 haps her father was a little less erect and her 
 mother a little grayer than when she had last 
 seen them. But at heart they were no older. 
 And their delight at having her home again 
 touched her sincerely. 
 
 Still, she was beginning to be fearfully bored. 
 They were so childishly interested in the same 
 old things. Her mother still waged war with 
 the mischief-loving boys who were always try- 
 ing to take a short cut through her beloved 
 parlor on the way to the bathhouse ; her father, 
 as he had done each year since she could re- 
 member, swore that the crew was the finest 
 crew he had ever trained and that Bill Reid, the 
 stroke, was the greatest stroke Yale had ever 
 had. And she had to pretend to be as inter- 
 ested as they were I
 
 82 LIFE 
 
 Each night she resolved to tell them in the 
 morning that she must go. And each morning 
 her heart failed her. She had told them that 
 the firm that employed her had gone out of 
 business and that for the moment she was 
 without a position. But she had provided an 
 avenue of escape in telling them that she was 
 daily expecting to hear from an employment 
 agency that was sure to find her another posi- 
 tion before long. 
 
 The days she could get through with well 
 enough. Dressed in the simple, cheap gowns 
 appropriate to her supposed condition, the se- 
 lection of which had been Mrs. Watson's part- 
 ing office, she strolled about, watched the boats 
 on the river from the boat-house porch, or 
 helped her mother about the house. 
 
 But the nights! There were times when 
 seated at the homely supper-table it was all she 
 could do to keep from screaming at the top of 
 her voice, so great was her longing for Tom, 
 her nostalgia for the lighted restaurants of 
 Broadway. At such moments, the purely hys- 
 terical impulse to shatter forever the peace of 
 mind of these two simple old people by shrieking 
 the truth about her way of life was almost ir- 
 resistible. Supper once eaten, she would help 
 her mother clear the table and wash the dishes. 
 And then, having lighted her father's pipe for 
 him, they would all, if the evening were fine, 
 sit out on the porch and watch the silvery river 
 glide by in the moonlight; talking, if they talked
 
 LIFE 83 
 
 at all, of the crew, the everlasting crew and the 
 chances for winning in the coming race I 
 
 Finally, toward half-past nine, when her 
 father's snores made it impossible to keep up 
 any further pretense that he was not fast asleep, 
 her mother would shake him by the shoulder 
 and they would all go up to bed. What an 
 existence ! A dozen times she had feverishly 
 packed her small trunk after going up to her 
 room, only to unpack it again in the morning. 
 But things could not go on like this much 
 longer. Why couldn't she come to some deci- 
 sion as to where she was to spend the rest of her 
 exile! She simply must make up her mind. 
 Tom would think it strange that she didn't 
 write. Then, too, she would soon be out of 
 funds. Mrs. Watson, having been in urgent need 
 for money to pay her doctor, had borrowed a 
 large part of the money left over after paying 
 the outstanding bills. 
 
 As she sat looking out of her window on the 
 night of Burnett's heart-to-heart talk with 
 Ralph, she little knew that within a few hours 
 Fate would decide things for her. 
 
 It was the afternoon of the day of Ruth's 
 coaching party. All day long it had been un- 
 usually hot. The crew were out on the river 
 and old Tom and his wife were out on the lawn 
 in front of the house. 
 
 "That's a good girl," said Mrs. Andrews, 
 peering through the open window. "Gracie 
 is making some iced tea, I'm that glad, my
 
 84 LIFE 
 
 head's splitting with the heat! Have some, 
 Tom! " 
 
 "I will not. I tell you, Grade," he called, 
 * ' a tall one of the dark kind with a collar on 
 would be all to the good. Hurry before the 
 crew gets in. They '11 be swingin ' down the river 
 most any minute now and it's no use makin' 
 the boys feel bad by the sight of somethin' they 
 can't have." 
 
 "Very well, father," called Grace. 
 
 "Ah, but it's the comfort to have her home 
 again," said Tom to his wife. 
 
 "It is that. But when I look at her, so dainty 
 and sweet, and then look at me and you, Tom, 
 I don't see how she's goin' to stay here." 
 
 "Ain't we her parents?" 
 
 ' ' Sure 'n that 's the surprisin ' part of it. How 
 you, Tom Andrews, could ever have a daughter 
 like that!" 
 
 "Well, I always thought she was mine, Nora, 
 but you know best." 
 
 With a laugh, he dodged a blow from the 
 broom with which his wife had been sweeping 
 the porch. 
 
 "Here you are, father," said Grace, coming 
 out with a glass in either hand. 
 
 "Happy days!" 
 
 As her mother stood smacking her lips over 
 her tea, Grace took the broom and began to go 
 on with the sweeping. 
 
 "No, no, no, I'll finish that." 
 
 "Nonsense! I'm not company. And besides
 
 LIFE 85 
 
 I want to show you that I haven't forgotten how 
 to sweep. " 
 
 " 'Tis mighty hard for yer mother 'n me with- 
 out yer. An' we've missed yer, I can tell you 
 that," said Tom soberly, wiping his mouth with 
 the back of his hand. "And if you only stay, 
 we '11 be that glad ! ' ' chimed in his wife. ' ' Still, ' ' 
 she added prudently, "if that there agency 
 gets you another twenty-five-dollar a week 
 job, I suppose it would be wicked not to 
 take it." 
 
 "Yes, 'twould," said her husband ruefully. 
 
 "An' you gettin' to be such a lady," went 
 on her mother fondly. ' ' Why, you might be 
 married to a millionaire most any TuesdaV 
 
 "No danger of that," said Grace, shaking her 
 head. 
 
 "An 1 why not?" 
 
 "Millionaires, mother, aren't looking for 
 girls like me." 
 
 "Well, if I was a millionaire " began Tom 
 
 hotly. 
 
 "Good gracious," interrupted Grace sharply, 
 "we'd better hurry or we won't be through be- 
 fore the crew comes. And didn 't Mr. Hampton 
 saw that there were some people coming out to 
 see Dad's pets!" 
 
 "He's that proud of them!" 
 
 "An' wouldn't any trainer be proud of them! 
 Six years now the Johnny Harvards have 
 trimmed us, but you just wait till Thursda' 
 week. And with Bill Eeid stroking, you'll see
 
 86 LIFE 
 
 the greatest crew Yale ever had come smash- 
 ing down that lane of boats ahead!" 
 
 "The greatest Yale ever had! Do you think 
 they're that good, Dad?" 
 
 "I don't think it, I know it. The best crew 
 I ever trained, and Bill Reid's the greatest 
 stroke." 
 
 "Here they come," said his wife, pointing to 
 the river. 
 
 "Ah, the beauties ain't it a sight for sore 
 eyes!" 
 
 "Come on come on there," he shouted. 
 "Easy now What's the matter, number two? 
 Steady that's the stuff, Bill Reid Ah, you 
 Reid! Pull it through that's the way. One, 
 two, three, steady as a clock. Ah, you could go 
 to sleep in her ! " The Yale shell came swinging 
 along, the eight men pulling in the steadiest 
 fashion, thirty-four strokes to the minute. 
 Chugging along behind came the motor-boat 
 with Hampton, the coach, who kept shouting 
 through his megaphone: 
 
 "Easy easy well pulled." 
 
 Slowly, slowly the shell came to a stop, the 
 men resting on their oars. 
 
 * ' C-c-c-come on now all together. Let 'em 
 k-k-know we're here," stammered Jimmie 
 Jones, the little coxswain. 
 
 " Rah rah rah 
 
 Rah rah rah 
 
 Rah rah rah 
 
 YALE1" 
 
 chanted the crew.
 
 LIFE 87 
 
 "Wh-wh-what's the ma-matter with Tom An- 
 drews?" 
 
 "He's rotten!" agreed the crew with one 
 voice. 
 
 "You shrimp," called Tom, pretending to be 
 in a great rage. "You wait, I'll get you!" 
 
 "Wh-wh-what's the matter with Mother An- 
 drews?" continued the undaunted Jones. 
 
 "She's too good for old Tom," was the gal- 
 lant response. 
 
 ' ' Ah you wait ! ' ' 
 
 "Come on in, Tom, the water's fine," called 
 one of the men. 
 
 "Wait till I get you on the rubbing board. 
 I'll teach you to talk!" cried Tom, shaking his 
 fist at them, his fierce expression more or less 
 marred by a broad grin. 
 
 "Don't you dare abuse them dear boys," said 
 his wife, appeased for the moment at the 
 compliment paid her. "Don't you worry, 
 Mr. Jones, you just stutter as much as you 
 want to." 
 
 "I d-d-don 't want to stutter. I d-d-do it 
 anyhow." 
 
 "Oh, yo-yo-you d-d-do, do you?" laughed 
 Tom, trying to imitate him. 
 
 As the shell came paddling down to the float, 
 Tom threw open the doors of the boat-house; 
 and the men, getting out very gingerly, pro- 
 ceeded to carry the shell in on their shoulders, 
 as Hampton, the coach, a burly, middle-aged 
 man, stepped out of the launch. Almost in-
 
 88 LIFE 
 
 stantly, they came piling out again, all strap- 
 ping fellows in the pink of condition, weighing 
 from one hundred and sixty-five to a hundred 
 and eighty pounds. All, that is, except the little 
 coxswain who weighed less than a hundred, and 
 seemed remarkably thin for that. Jones ad- 
 vanced with the elaborate caution of an Indian 
 on the warpath, and instantly dodged behind 
 a friendly tree. 
 
 "Now I'll get you, you shrimp, " said his 
 enemy, making a rush at him. But little Jones 
 was nothing if not agile. Wriggling, squirm- 
 ing, dodging and ducking, finding asylum be- 
 hind one man after another, they on their part 
 doing their best to aid by getting in Andrews' 
 way, he was finally captured just as he was 
 about to dodge behind big Bill Reid. Old Nora 
 laughed until the tears ran down her cheeks. 
 Even Grace forgot her deadly boredom for the 
 moment. 
 
 1 ' Shall I throw him in ? " demanded his captor. 
 
 "No, no. Give him the blanket!" 
 
 With a rush they seized the huge blanket 
 hanging over the railing of the porch and threw 
 the protesting Jones in the middle of it. 
 
 "S-s-s-sst-stop!" he shrieked in mock terror. 
 
 "Now, one, too, three, all together.'* 
 
 Amid yells and cheers, the hapless coxswain 
 was tossed until everyone was exhausted. Bill 
 Reid alone took no part in the sport. As he 
 strode over the lawn to where the coach, Hamp- 
 ton, was standing, Grace had to admit that he
 
 LIFE dd 
 
 was an unusually striking and attractive figure. 
 It was not alone that he was deep-chested, 
 broad-shouldered, big of bone and muscle, a 
 nearly perfect type of strong, athletic manhood 
 Grace was too physical herself not to feel the 
 magnetism of all that but about him was a 
 compelling quality that no mere splendid ani- 
 mal could ever possess. What did it come 
 from! Was it intellectual? Was it moral? 
 Grace could not say. She only knew that, more 
 than any other man she had ever encountered, 
 Bill Reid possessed it. 
 
 As she stood in the background noting the 
 frank, fearless glance of his fine eyes, and the 
 winning charm of the smile that occasionally 
 broke down the accustomed gravity of his face, 
 serving to make it suddenly appealingly boyish, 
 it swept over her with a gust of unreason- 
 able anger that she both hated and feared 
 him. 
 
 Why? She asked herself the question. Was 
 it because her beauty had failed to arouse even 
 his passing interest? No, she was sure it was 
 not. She had been a little piqued, as was nat- 
 ural, at the discovery just at first, and had made 
 the mistake of attributing his indifference to the 
 fact that he probably considered himself too 
 much ''above" old Tom Andrews' daughter, 
 however pretty, to pay any attention to her 
 further than that which a kindly courtesy to 
 her father demanded. But since then she had 
 learned that he had not disdained to work his
 
 90 LIFE 
 
 way through college by doing any "chores," 
 however humble, that came to his hand, so he 
 was evidently not prompted by any false pride. 
 She repeated to herself that this was not the 
 reason. She hated and feared him instinctively, 
 that was all there was to it. It was one of 
 those feelings that can never be accounted for 
 rationally. 
 
 She moved away toward a little table upon 
 which the empty glasses were standing, and 
 murmuring something to her mother about tidy- 
 ing up a bit, carried them into the house. 
 
 "Satisfied to-day, Mr. Hampton?" 
 
 "More than satisfied, Bill. You broke the 
 record for the course." 
 
 " Broke the record! That's great, isn't it! 
 They're a great bunch of fellows, coach. I 
 could feel it the way they backed me up 
 to-day." 
 
 "Well, you see we have a stroke worth back- 
 ing up," said Hampton, laying his hand for a 
 moment on his shoulder. ' ' Now get in for your 
 shower and rub-down, Bill." 
 
 "Here, you," he called to the rest of the crew 
 in quite another tone. ' ' Get in here, every one 
 of you. What do you think you came here for 
 to amuse yourselves?" 
 
 His words were a signal to more than the 
 members of the crew. With a quickness sur- 
 prising for such a big woman, Mrs. Andrews 
 jumped on the steps and prepared to defend her 
 beloved parlor at the point of the broom. She
 
 LIFE 91 
 
 was not a moment too soon, for little Jones was 
 only a second behind her. 
 
 "No you don't," she cried, aiming a blow at 
 him. ' * Around the house with you ! ' ' 
 
 "Got your tea and cake and stuff like that 
 ready, Mrs. Andrews?" asked Hampton. "I 
 thought the crowd that is drivin' out would be 
 here when we came in from the river." 
 
 "Sure'n how many are they goin' to be, Mr. 
 Hampton?" she asked anxiously. "Of course 
 we'll be ready, all right; still I'd like to 
 know." 
 
 1 ' Oh, ten or fifteen, I suppose. You know it 's 
 Mr. Stuyvesant's party. Mr. William Van 
 Kennsselaer Stuyvesant, the big banker. He was 
 an old oarsman in his day, you remember." 
 
 "Faith an' how old do you think I am!" she 
 asked indignantly. 
 
 "Well, you must remember Ealph Stuyve- 
 sant, his son, who was coxswain of the crew 
 five years ago. ' ' 
 
 "Yes, I remember him/' said Mrs. Andrews 
 in a tone that suggested that the recollection 
 did not carry an enormous amount of pleasure 
 with it. "How are they comin' out, did you 
 
 "On a tally-ho." 
 
 At that moment there came the sound of a 
 horn still some way off. Grace, who had caught 
 the name Stuyvesant through the open window, 
 made it a pretext for coming out. 
 
 "I thought I heard a horn, mother."
 
 92 LIFE 
 
 "And so you did. It's Mr. Stuyvesant's 
 tally-ho. Well, go on, Mr. Hampton. Do I 
 know any of the rest?" 
 
 "I don't know that I can tell many more of 
 them. But, of course, there'll be Tom Burnett. 
 You remember Tom Burnett?" 
 
 "Remember him! Will I ever forget him? 
 When he was here, he used to be doin' 
 nothin' but pesterin' the life out of Gracie, 
 here." 
 
 At the mention of Burnett's name, Grace had 
 impulsively started for the house again. She 
 must get up to her room and stay there until 
 these people had gone. A sudden illness, a 
 headache, anything would do for an excuse. 
 Tom must not see her, not know she was here. 
 Or at least she must get him alone and invent 
 some story about her mother's having been ill 
 and having sent for her. She must watch be- 
 hind the curtain of her room until a chance 
 came. 
 
 But at Hampton 's next words, the house, the 
 boat-house, the whole landscape swam before 
 her eyes. For the first time in her life she 
 feared that she was going to faint. She sank 
 down for a moment on the steps leading up to 
 the porch. Fortunately, Hampton was always 
 rather slow of speech, which gave her time to 
 pull herself together. 
 
 "They say he's goin' to marry Mr. Stuyve- 
 sant's daughter, Miss Euth Stuyvesant. She's 
 a good looker, and will have five or ten million
 
 LIFE 93 
 
 dollars of her own some day. Gee, it's a cinch 
 it's the money he's after!" 
 
 "N-o-o-o!" said Mrs. Andrews in astonish- 
 ment. "Well, I never! Do you hear that, 
 Grace? Young Burnett is going to marry the 
 rich Miss Stuyvesant." 
 
 "My dear mother, why in the world should 
 that interest me?" 
 
 "Well, you used to know him, and I 
 thought " 
 
 "Oh, you thought too much, mother, dear," 
 said Grace, getting up and putting her arm af- 
 fectionately round her mother's ample waist. 
 "That was so long ago, I can scarcely remem- 
 ber Mr. Burnett. Let me see; what was he 
 like?" 
 
 "Black-haired, rather handsome chap. But 
 no good, I always thought," said Hampton. 
 
 "And Miss Stuyvesant, is she pretty?" asked 
 Grace in a tone of polite interest. 
 
 "A perfect corker! " 
 
 "Really?" And after a moment: "What 
 type?" 
 
 "Oh, I don't know. Fair complexion, gray 
 eyes, reddish hair." 
 
 "Well, for my part, I never did like them 
 redheads," said Mrs. Andrews with conviction. 
 
 Once more came the sound of the horn; this 
 time a perfect fanfare. And then, presently, 
 one could distinguish the sound of fresh young 
 voices, singing. Out of the house, fairly tum- 
 bling over each other in their excitement, came
 
 94 LIFE 
 
 the men of the crew, fresh and glowing in their 
 flannels and blue jerseys, just as the big coach, 
 drawn by six horses and loaded with men and 
 girls, came dashing into the yard. 
 
 Followed by her mother, Grace hurried into 
 the house.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 MR. STUYVESANT, who had been a noted whip 
 in his day, was driving. He was in Ms element 
 with the reins in his hands. All the way up 
 from the city he had been as gay and light- 
 hearted as the youngest of his guests; his big 
 voice booming out when they sang any songs he 
 knew, his hearty laugh sounding above all the 
 rest. 
 
 If at any moment the fun seemed to be dying 
 out, he always knew how to rekindle it by tell- 
 ing some preposterous story about his friend, 
 Donald MacLaren, a rather dry-as-dust old gen- 
 tleman who sat beside him on the box, and who 
 was in a continual state of protest, partly on 
 account of the anecdotes and partly because 
 Mr. Stuyvesant insisted upon emphasizing all 
 his points by prodding him in the side with the 
 butt end of his whip. 
 
 In after years Euth always looked back on 
 this day with tear-dimmed eyes. Never again 
 was she to see her dearly loved father so care- 
 i free and happy. 
 
 By way of showing that his hand had lost 
 , none of its old-time cunning, the old gentle- 
 man, having slyly flecked the leaders with 
 the lash of his whip, brought the coach up to 
 the door with a flourish that brought a cheer 
 
 95
 
 96 LIFE 
 
 from the members of the crew waiting to re- 
 ceive him and his party. Achnowledging his 
 reception with a low bow and a flourish of his 
 hat, he motioned to the grooms to take their 
 places at the prancing animals' heads and 
 turned to his guests. "I think, before alight- 
 ing, that we should respond to our cordial wel- 
 come with a song. All ready ? One, two, three, 
 begin!" 
 
 The response was instantaneous. 
 
 " Row row row 
 Just a little while, 
 Give Johnny Harvard 
 A sample of our style. 
 Row row row 
 Your very last bit, 
 That's the way 
 To make a hit. 
 Row row row 
 Let 'em yell Jim Wray. 
 We have Bill Reid, 
 He'll show the way." 
 
 And then they suddenly began the famous 
 "Boola-Boola" in which the crew joined. 
 
 " Boola boola 
 Boola boola 
 Boola boola 
 Boola Boo. 
 We'll rough-house 
 Johnny Harvard, 
 Pennsylvania, 
 Princeton, too. 
 Boola Boo. 
 Eli YALE! " 
 
 "What I like about both those songs are the 
 words; they're an inspiration in themselves," 
 said Mr. MacLaren slyly.
 
 LIFE 97 
 
 "Nobody cares a hang about words; it's the 
 tune, man." 
 
 11 You don't mean to say " 
 
 " Brackety cax coax coax. 
 Brackety cax coax coax. 
 Hooray hooray, 
 Hullabaloo 
 
 YALE! " 
 
 And with a rush the crew stormed the coach 
 and began to help the girls to get down. Most 
 of them were old acquaintances; indeed, there 
 were rumors of more than one "unofficial" en- 
 gagement existing. Perhaps the one that ex- 
 cited the greatest amusement was that of 
 'Shrimp" Jones to Jennie Bruce, a large, 
 handsome, fat girl, Ruth's most intimate friend. 
 
 At the imminent risk of having the life 
 crushed out of him, should she chance to miss 
 her footing, little Jones was now assisting his 
 inamorata in her perilous descent. Once more 
 on the firm earth, she proceeded to load the un- 
 fortunate youth with all manner of packages 
 which her friends passed down to her. 
 
 " I-I-er-I-er, Jennie," he stammered. 
 
 "Yes, I know you're glad to see me; you 
 ought to be," replied the fat girl with her placid 
 drawl. " Wait a minute, here's some more." 
 
 "Wh-what'sa-allthis?" 
 
 "You didn't look like you were getting enough 
 to eat, so I brought you some food, you poor, 
 skinny, little thing." 
 
 "Oh!"
 
 98 LIFE 
 
 "Where's Mr. Reid? I want Mr. Reid." 
 
 "Do-do you thi-think that's-that's the way to 
 tr-tr-treat me? Co-come down h-here, 1-1-load 
 me up with pa-pa-packages and then a-a-ask for 
 Bill Reid?" 
 
 "Of course it is. Besides, I'll treat you any 
 'way I want to. You're in love with me." 
 
 "Wh-who s-s-said I w-w-was in 1-1-1 ove with 
 you?" demanded little Jones, rising to the bait, 
 as his tormentor knew he would do. 
 
 "You don't have to say it; you act it. Oh, 
 Mr. Reid!" 
 
 "Here I am, Miss Bruce. How are you?" 
 said Reid, advancing with his pleasant smile. 
 
 "Splendid. I've lost six ounces in six weeks. 
 Here's Oh, where is it?" Seizing Jimmy by 
 the collar, she pulled him forward, and selecting 
 one of the largest of the boxes which completely 
 filled his arms, she held it out to the smiling 
 giant. 
 
 "Here's a five-pound box of Page and Shaw's 
 chocolates. I brought them especially for you. ' ' 
 
 Little Jones gave a vengeful cackle. 
 
 " He c-c-can't e-e-eat 'em!" 
 
 "Keep quiet!" 
 
 "He's right. You see, Miss Bruce, we're 
 training and can't eat candy. Thank you just 
 the same." 
 
 ' ' Can 't you ? ' ' with elaborate surprise. * ' Do 
 you know, I had sort of an idea maybe you 
 couldn't. I'll eat 'em myself." 
 
 With a laughing nod of dismissal, she strolled
 
 LIFE 99 
 
 off with her admirer in tow, already munching 
 her chocolates. 
 
 In the meantime, Mr. Stuyvesant having 
 given some directions to the grooms, turned to 
 meet Hampton. 
 
 " Hello, Hampton, how are you? How's the 
 crew?" he asked in his hearty voice. 
 
 11 You 're looking bully, Mr. Stuyvesant." 
 
 "What the devil difference does it make how 
 I look? How's the crew, I say." 
 
 "The greatest ever. It's our year with Bill 
 Reid as stroke." 
 
 Turning his head, he saw his favorite looking 
 laughingly after the departing Miss Bruce, and 
 nodded for him to join him. 
 
 "So you're Bill Reid," said Mr. Stuyvesant, 
 holding out his hand without waiting for 
 Hampton to introduce the young man. "I'm 
 Bill Stuyvesant. I stroked Yale once myself." 
 
 "Oh, I've heard of you, sir. You're the man 
 who brought your boat up three lengths in the 
 last quarter mile, and won." 
 
 Mr. Stuyvesant gave a pleased laugh. "Well, 
 you're going to win, too, I'm sure. Can tell 
 by the look of you. Wait a minute." He 
 turned and looked around at the various scat- 
 tered groups until his eye fell on his friend, 
 Colonel MacLaren, standing next his daughter. 
 
 "Mac, come here a minute." 
 
 Colonel MacLaren came briskly over, followed 
 more slowly by Ruth. 
 
 "MacLaren, here's Bill Reid. The boy who's
 
 100 LIFE 
 
 going to lick you Johnny Harvards next Thurs- 
 day week!" 
 
 "We'll see about that," said his friend, af- 
 fecting to bluster. 
 
 "MacLaren, here," continued Mr. Stuyvesant, 
 holding his hand beside his mouth, and speak- 
 ing in the loudest of whispers, ' ' rowed on Har- 
 vard the year I rowed on Yale. And what I did 
 to him!" he ended with a burst of laughter. 
 
 "Father," said a quiet voice, as he was wip- 
 ing his eyes, "won't you introduce me to Mr. 
 Eeidf" 
 
 "Of course. Bill Eeid, this is my daughter, 
 Miss Stuyvesant." 
 
 "I've been looking forward to meeting Bill 
 Eeid, ' ' said Euth, holding out her hand. 
 
 For some unaccountable reason, Bill Eeid 
 flushed to the roots of his hair. For a long 
 moment, blue eye met gray eye in an unwaver- 
 ing, steadfast glance. Still smiling, Euth made 
 an effort to release her hand, which was lost in 
 his big one. At that moment, her father's rov- 
 ing eye fell on Tom Andrews, who was just 
 coming out of the house. 
 
 ' ' Tom Andrews, well, well ! You 're beginning 
 to show your age, Tom." 
 
 And then, as they were joined by Ralph: 
 "Bill Eeid, this is my son, Balph Stuyvesant." 
 
 " Glad to meet you," said Bill cordially. 
 Wasn't he her brother!" 
 
 "I was coxswain of the crew five years ago," 
 said Ealph, swaggering a little. "I want you
 
 LIFE 101 
 
 to meet my wife. Anna, this is> Bill Eeid, the 
 stroke." 
 
 "Oh, I'm so glad to meet you, Mr. Eeid," 
 said Anna gushingly. "We're all pulling so 
 hard for you to win ! ' ' 
 
 "It's going to take hard pulling on our part, 
 too," with a shake of his head. 
 
 "I understand Harvard has a good crew this 
 year, ' ' said a new voice at his elbow. 
 
 Bill turned to meet the rather insolent glance 
 of Tom Burnett. 
 
 "Oh, my name's Burnett, Thomas Burnett." 
 
 Eeid returned his bow, but Euth noticed that 
 neither man offered to shake hands. It was 
 all Tom's fault, she said to herself. He was in 
 one of his most supercilious moods. She could 
 tell that by the very tone of his voice. 
 
 "For some strange reason," she said lightly, 
 "Tom seems to think Harvard's going to 
 win. Eeally, I almost believe he wants them 
 to!" 
 
 "I don't, my dear," with a slight emphasis 
 on the term of endearment. " Of course I'm a 
 Yale man, but I can't let my loyalty interfere 
 with my common sense. I saw Harvard row the 
 other day. A good crew." 
 
 There was an awkward pause. Nobody spoke. 
 
 "I see I've said the unpopular thing." His 
 laugh had the suggestion of a sneer. 
 
 The little group melted away and left him, 
 Eeid and Euth strolling over to the boat-house, 
 where most of the others seemed to have gone,
 
 102 LIFE 
 
 and Ealph and Anna going to look for something 
 she had left on top of the coach. He swore 
 under his breath. He had made up his mind to 
 definitely propose to Euth to-day and things 
 did not seem to be starting out well. 
 
 She had twice already showed that his manner 
 displeased her, and here she was practically 
 snubbing him before the others and particularly 
 before that big booby who was the idol of every 
 silly girl for the moment just because he hap- 
 pened to be stroke of a crew. He had taken a 
 violent dislike to him on sight, and he was glad 
 to believe that he had conveyed as much by his 
 manner. And the airs the fool assumed. By 
 his manner, one might think he was the Grand 
 Mogul himself! He would take a stroll by 
 himself along the bank of the river until he got 
 over his irritation at things in general. 
 
 He stopped digging the sod with his stick 
 and looked up to see Grace standing gazing at 
 him from the porch, with a smile that seemed to 
 comprehend and mock at his discomfiture. 
 
 "You! Here!" he said in frank dismay. 
 
 "Tom!" she said appealingly. 
 
 She had the advantage over him of knowing 
 that she was to see him. During the time while 
 with rage in her heart she had been helping her 
 mother prepare the tea, she had planned her 
 campaign. But he should have his chance to 
 explain, to deny the rumor that she was about 
 to be supplanted. 
 
 * ' Sh ! sh ! " he said under his breath, glancing
 
 LIFE 103 
 
 hastily about to see that they were alone. 
 "What are you doing here?" 
 
 " Where else was there for me to go, after 
 after you said you weren 't going to see me any 
 more?" 
 
 "I'm not the only man in the world," he said 
 brutally. 
 
 He did not look at her, or he would have sur- 
 prised an ominous flash in her black eyes. 
 
 "You're the only man in my world. Wasn't 
 I true to you always f ' ' 
 
 * * Sh ! I explained to you that we had to part 
 only because I'd lost all my money," he went 
 on in a changed tone. * ' You know, dear, how I 
 love you, and you only. Just as soon as I get 
 some money again " 
 
 "When you marry Miss Stuyvesant, I sup- 
 pose," she sneered. 
 
 Burnett was genuinely frightened. But he 
 set about to extricate himself from his danger- 
 ous position with his customary boldness. 
 
 "Who repeated that nonsense to you?" 
 
 "Never mind. It is sufficient that I have 
 heard it. That's why you were so anxious to 
 get me out of New York. You were afraid I'd 
 hear it, and make a row. I was to be thrown 
 over, and in the meantime to be sent to some 
 hole where I wouldn't hear of anything until it 
 was too late. The idea was clever, but " 
 
 "Don't talk such damned nonsense!" 
 
 "Oh, I hate her, I hate her!" said Grace with 
 sudden passion. "I hated her when I first saw
 
 104 LIFE 
 
 her to-day, when I didn't even know who she 
 was!" 
 
 "Hate her all you please, I don't give a 
 damn. Now just listen to me a minute. Try 
 to control yourself and listen to reason. If 
 people find out about you and me in New York 
 it will hurt just one person yourself. You 
 don 't want your father and mother to know the 
 life you've been living, do you?" 
 
 Before Grace could make any answer, they 
 saw Ralph Stuyvesant coming toward them over 
 the lawn. Grace made a move to return to the 
 house, but Burnett laid a detaining hand on her 
 arm. 
 
 "Oh, Ealph, you remember Miss Andrews, 
 don't you? Tom Andrews' daughter, Grace!" 
 
 "This is Ralph Stuyvesant. On the crew a 
 few years ago." 
 
 Ralph, who had been turning out the pockets 
 of his coat in a vain effort to find something he 
 had lost, was evidently in a temper. 
 
 "Glad to meet you again," he said perfunc- 
 torily. But as he glanced surlily up at Grace, 
 his whole face became transformed. Amazed 
 admiration spoke from every feature of his 
 face. 
 
 "You little Gracie Andrews!" 
 
 Easily flattered, as she always was, Grace 
 rewarded his open admiration with a coquettish 
 smile. 
 
 "I remember Mr. Stuyvesant very well," she 
 said demurely.
 
 LIFE 105 
 
 "Do you? That 's awfully good of you. Why, 
 you were just a little flapper when I was here. 
 And now " His voice trailed off into an elo- 
 quent silence. 
 
 "I'm afraid I must be going in," said Grace, 
 hearing voices coming nearer from the boat- 
 house. 
 
 "Oh, don't go, I haven't had a chance to talk 
 to you. Say, at least, that I'll see you again 
 before we start back. ' ' 
 
 "Au revoir, then," smiled Grace, giving him 
 her hand. 
 
 "Don't make it too long, then," Ralph called 
 after her. "By God, Tom," he said, turn- 
 ing to Burnett, "she's a peach, a perfect 
 wonder!" 
 
 "A peach that can be picked," said Burnett 
 with a laugh. 
 
 " No ! Are you sure ! ' ' 
 
 "Oh, you married men!" said his friend 
 cynically. 
 
 "Ralph!" called a voice from the river bank. 
 
 1 * Good Lord ! Anna sent me to get her bag ! ' ' 
 and Ralph hurried away. 
 
 Out of the boat-house came the chattering 
 boys and girls, scattering in various directions. 
 Jennie Bruce, with her faithful swain and her 
 box of candy, sank down on the porch steps 
 with a sigh of contentment. Dorothy Morgan, 
 Lillian Johnson, Marion Colfax and Alice Hen- 
 derson, all bright, pretty girls, stood in a group 
 in the center of the lawn, surrounded by mem-
 
 106 LIFE 
 
 bers of the crew with whom they were flirting 
 outrageously to the manifest displeasure of the 
 young fellows of their own party. Only Euth 
 and Bill Eeid were missing. 
 
 "Where's Ruth?" asked Alice Henderson. 
 
 "I think she went down to the shore with her 
 father and Colonel MacLaren, and that man 
 who teaches you boys how to row," said Marion 
 Coif ax. 
 
 "She went down to the shore all right, but 
 not with them, ' ' laughed Harry Dalton. 
 
 "Who's with her," said Burnett sharply. 
 
 "Oh, only Bill Eeid," mocked Jennie from 
 her seat on the steps. "He'll take care of her, 
 Mr. Burnett, he 's so big and strong. ' ' 
 
 "Thank you kindly, but I can take care of 
 myself," called a laughing voice, as Euth, with 
 Bill Eeid, appeared at the top of the steps lead- 
 ing down from the bluff. 
 
 "Euth, won't you take a walk with me?" 
 asked Burnett in a low tone. 
 
 "Not just now; I'm a little tired." 
 
 " Go on, " urged Alice. * * You 've been monop- 
 olizing Mr. Eeid long enough. I want to talk 
 to him myself." 
 
 "Very well, then; just to give Alice a chance, 
 I'll go." 
 
 Her ungrateful friend made a face at her as 
 she and Tom walked slowly away. 
 
 "Euth doesn't act a bit like an engaged girl, 
 does she?" asked Dorothy Morgan innocently. 
 
 "Engaged!" demanded Eeid in a startled
 
 LIFE 107 
 
 tone which he tried vainly to hide in a laugh. 
 "I I mean how does an engaged girl act?" 
 
 "Well, that's pretty hard to show you in a 
 crowd like this." 
 
 "Is everybody here engaged!" 
 
 "No, no, no! I'm not, I'm not, nor I," 
 screamed Marion, Alice and Lillian together. 
 
 "Help! Help!" 
 
 "I'll protect you," cried the gallant Jimmy, 
 hurling himself down from the step and posing 
 in an heroic attitude before the big stroke, amid 
 the cheers and laughter of the others. 
 
 "Jimmy, you're such a goose! Let me ex- 
 plain things, Mr. Keid," said Jennie, sweeping 
 majestically down upon them. "Kuth is en- 
 gaged to Tom Burnett, and Dorothy, here, to 
 Harry Dalton, and " 
 
 "And you, yourself, to " began Keid. 
 
 "No, I'm not engaged to anybody. Jimmy 
 has tried five indistinct times to ask me; but 
 each time his tongue gets so twisted he can't get 
 it out. It's awful!" 
 
 "Th-th-th-th " began little Jones indig- 
 nantly. 
 
 "There he goes again: time number six." 
 
 "I-I-I-I " 
 
 "Never mind, Jimmy. I can wait. Do you 
 know I believe he sort of likes me?" 
 
 "I think everybody must like you." 
 
 "Look out, Jimmy," said Dorothy mali- 
 ciously, "I should think the stroke of a Yale 
 crew could win any girl away."
 
 108 LIFE 
 
 "That will be about all for you," admonished 
 young Dalton severely. 
 
 "You're right, Harry. She should give the 
 rest of us a chance, ' ' agreed Alice. 
 
 "Go it, girls : you'll have a hard time catching 
 this old woman hater, ' ' chimed in Fred Hender- 
 son, Alice's brother. 
 
 "Woman hater! You!! Oh, Mr. Keid, it 
 can't be true," cried the girls in a chorus, 
 gathering round him. 
 
 1 ' Don 't you believe it, girls. I love, ' ' he made 
 a sweeping gesture, "all of 'em." 
 
 "Oh!" 
 
 "All of 'em just the same?" queried Marion. 
 
 " No, indeed; all differently." 
 
 "Wait a minute, girls. I have a great idea: 
 I'll auction him off!" 
 
 And with a hasty look around to find the most 
 suitable place for an auction-block, Fred Hen- 
 derson sprang upon the box of the coach from 
 which the horses had been unhitched, just as 
 Ruth and Burnett returned from their walk. 
 
 "Ladies," he announced in a pompous voice, 
 "the first piece of property I have to offer you 
 to-day is one fine, large, handsome young man 
 Silence, please, we must have order!" in re- 
 sponse to hoots and catcalls from the other 
 men, "where was I? Oh, yes handsome young 
 man, the most popular student in Yale, captain 
 of the crew, and halfback on the football team. 
 He has fought through four years' campaign of 
 summer girls and college widows and not one
 
 LIFE 109 
 
 of them has got his number. Come on now, 
 ladies. Come on now, ladies, start something, 
 and start it up big. What am I bid ? Give me 
 a bid ! Give me a bid ! ' ' 
 
 "Five pounds of chocolates nearly com- 
 plete," called Jennie Bruce. 
 
 "Why, ladies!" scolded the indignant auc- 
 tioneer, "five pounds of chocolates for the 
 pride of Yale ! No, no : it will have to be some- 
 thing sweeter than chocolates." 
 
 "One blonde " began Lillian. 
 
 "Ah, that's better. That's something like. 
 One blonde, one blonde. Are there no other 
 bids ? Nobody else want to bid I ' ' 
 
 "One brunette with a loving heart," cried 
 Alice, going her friend one better. 
 
 "A loving heart accompanied by one bru- 
 nette. That's better. That's what we want. 
 That's what we're after. One loving heart. 
 One loving heart. Do I hear anything else ? Do 
 I hear anything more?" 
 
 "One beautiful brown-haired girl would ex- 
 change an oarsman named Harry," was the 
 offer of the modest Dorothy. 
 
 " Don 't know what we can do about exchanges. 
 Still One beautiful brown-haired girl. One 
 brown-haired excuse me, ladies one beautiful 
 brown-haired ' ' 
 
 "Wait a minute," called Euth. "May any- 
 one bid?" 
 
 "Sure." 
 
 "One redhead with a temper."
 
 110 LIFE 
 
 * ' Oh, one redhead with a temper. Do we hear 
 anything else? One redhead with a temper. 
 One redhead with a temper, once! One red- 
 head with a temper, twice! One redhead with 
 a temper, third, and last time! Going, going, 
 going " 
 
 "Gone!" said Bill Reid's clear voice. 
 
 "Ladies and gentlemen," declared the auc- 
 tioneer in the midst of the general laughter, ' ' I 
 declare Bill Eeid sold to one redhead with a 
 temper. ' ' 
 
 "Now you've got him, what are you going to 
 do with him?" asked Jennie with an interested 
 air. 
 
 Ruth gave a little, embarrassed laugh. For 
 a moment the lovely color flooded her eager 
 young face. She looked up into the face of her 
 newly acquired purchase, and again their eyes 
 met bravely. 
 
 " I I haven't quite decided. I'll come for 
 him later." 
 
 "He'll be waiting," said Bill Eeid so softly 
 that none but she could hear. 
 
 "I don't know," confided Jennie Bruce to the 
 few remaining chocolates in the box, "but I'm 
 inclined to think that that was a genuine sale!"
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 AT this moment a diversion caused by the 
 appearance of Hampton with two magnificent 
 Russian wolfhounds gave Ruth a chance to 
 escape. All the others gathered round the coach 
 with exclamations on the beauty of the two ani- 
 mals. Reid went quickly up onto the porch and 
 sat on the railing, his head against a post. He 
 wanted to be quite alone for a little. If Ruth 
 had the same wish, she was less lucky than he. 
 No sooner had she reached the edge of the lawn 
 than Burnett was beside her. 
 
 "Ruth, you shouldn't have done it." He was 
 putting a strong restraint on himself, but it was 
 plain that he was angry. 
 
 "It was all a joke. The other girls were bid- 
 ding, too," she said indifferently. 
 
 ' ' It made me look ridiculous. ' ' 
 
 "Really? I'm sure I don't see why it should. 
 But I can see that you're making yourself 
 ridiculous now," she said with rising temper. 
 And then recalling the absurd bid, "one red- 
 head with a temper," she laughed softly to 
 herself, her good humor completely restored. 
 
 "You said you were coming back to get him." 
 
 1 ' Well, ' ' she said teasingly, ' ' a man that a girl 
 has been able to get is always interesting." 
 
 "He's a cheap, common mucker. Why, when 
 ill
 
 112 LIFE 
 
 lie first came to Yale he tended furnaces and 
 waited on table." 
 
 ''I didn't know that. I can only tell you that 
 if he had the grit and courage to work his way 
 through college, I'm glad to know it. I admire 
 him for it." 
 
 "I hate to hear you raving about another 
 man!" 
 
 "Don't be silly." 
 
 " I hope you don't see him again very soon, at 
 any rate." 
 
 "You're making him terribly interesting." 
 
 I * Euth ! Do you think it fair to treat me this 
 way when things are as they are between us?" 
 
 "And may I ask just how you consider things 
 are between us? It occurs to me that you are 
 taking a great deal for granted ! ' ' 
 
 "Ruth! You know that I've thought of you 
 as my future wife for years. Your father 
 wishes it. All our friends approve. " 
 
 I 1 Yes, I know all that, ' ' she said coldly. "Has 
 it never occurred to you that I might might 
 want to be consulted about it?" 
 
 "Why, you knew that I was in love with you. 
 Euth, I swear that there 's never been any other 
 girl of any kind that I've given a thought to," 
 he lied. Again, Euth's rising anger was calmed 
 by some secret thought. 
 
 "I believe you, Tom," she said kindly. "I 
 know you are always straightforward and 
 honorable, and I on my part have never thought 
 of any other man. I am to blame, as well as
 
 LIFE 113 
 
 yourself, in a way. I've let things drift. I 
 knew what people were saying. But as long as 
 there was no other person why, we've both 
 grown sort of used to looking forward to each 
 other that way. You want me to be quite frank, 
 don't you!" 
 
 "Of course." 
 
 For a moment she hesitated, smiling to her- 
 self. 
 
 "Well now, don't laugh at me somehow 
 there isn't any thrill in thinking of you in that 
 way, that I always imagined there must be when 
 a person's in love." 
 
 "Nonsense." 
 
 "I mean it. You know I believe that every 
 girl dreams that some day she's going to meet 
 some man she doesn't know how, nor when, 
 nor where but when they meet, they are going 
 to look into each other's eyes, and just know 
 that they were intended for each other from the 
 first, from the beginning of time. That 's love ! ' ' 
 
 "Eomantic nonsense, my dear," laughed 
 Tom. 
 
 She made no reply, and looking up at her, he 
 saw that she was looking straight across at the 
 porch where Reid, standing with his fine head 
 thrown back, was giving her back her look. 
 
 * ' Euth, Euth ! Give me my chance. We can 't 
 talk here with all these people running about. 
 Come with me for a row on the river," he 
 pleaded. 
 
 Euth brought her eyes back to his.
 
 114 LIFE 
 
 "Very well," she said simply. 
 
 On the way down to the landing, they met 
 Mr. Stuyvesant and Colonel MacLaren still 
 disputing about some long-forgotten sporting 
 event. 
 
 "Tom wants to take me for a row on the 
 river." 
 
 "All right. I'd trust you anywhere with 
 Tom," said her father significantly. 
 
 "Suppose you upset me in the water; you 
 know I can't swim," said Euth as she was tak- 
 ing her place in the boat. 
 
 "Then I'd rescue you, and you'd have to 
 marry me out of gratitude." 
 
 "Oh, I'm sure that I'd marry any man who 
 saved me from drowning!" 
 
 "It's a promise, then?" 
 
 "Yes, I'll marry the man who saves me." 
 
 " Oh, look, there go Ruth and Tom Burnett. 
 I wish somebody 'd take me rowing," com- 
 plained Dorothy Morgan from the porch, where 
 most of the party had now gathered invading 
 Eeid's privacy and intruding upon dreams 
 which he hardly dared to dream when alone. 
 
 "That's a silly thing for Tom to do," said 
 Ralph with annoyance. "He can't row much, 
 and he can hardly swim at all." 
 
 "He can't!" exclaimed Reid, springing to his 
 feet. 
 
 "No, neither can Ruth. But I guess it's all 
 right. Father let her go, and the river's 
 smooth."
 
 LIFE 115 
 
 He drifted away to one of the other groups. 
 Soon the light laughter and chatter began again. 
 Only Bill Reid stood apart in the shadow, his 
 eyes on the river. 
 
 On a rustic bench under the tree, Mr. Stuyve- 
 sant and his old friend were having the finest 
 dispute of the day. To one who did not know 
 them, it must have seemed only a matter of mo- 
 ments until they were at one another's throats. 
 The next instant there came the sound of a 
 woman's scream and the confused clatter of 
 excited voices from the porch. 
 
 "What's the matter?" called Mr. Stuyvesant, 
 springing to his feet. 
 
 "Ruth and Tom, father," Ralph answered. 
 His voice was husky with excitement and fear. 
 "Tom's having trouble " 
 
 "It's going over, it's going over!" shrieked 
 Anna, wringing her hands. 
 
 The whole place was in an uproar of shrieks, 
 exclamations, prayers and curses. Old Mrs. 
 Andrews, who had rushed out of the house with 
 Grace at the first alarm, was kneeling on the 
 ground by the steps, her apron over her head, 
 objurgating and imploring the Almighty by 
 turns at the top of her voice. 
 
 Occasionally, disjointed cries and exclama- 
 tions detached themselves from the general clut- 
 ter of sound: "He's crazy: he don't know what 
 he's doing!" "Sit still, Ruth, don't jump," 
 this in Ralph's throaty voice, raised now to a 
 sort of Banshee wail. "Steady, Burnett, keep
 
 116 LIFE 
 
 your head." "What a God damned fool." 
 "My God, they'll both be drowned." 
 
 But above them all could be heard Bill Reid's 
 clear, resonant voice. He was standing on top 
 of the porch railing, like a captain on his bridge, 
 calling directions to Burnett, through a trumpet 
 made of his hands. 
 
 "Pull on your right oar, man. Your right! 
 Your right! Steady, steady! Keep pulling 
 on your right." 
 
 And out on the little bench under the tree 
 were two old, old men. The one, his face buried 
 in his hands, sobbing : ' ' My God My little girl 
 My Ruth!" the other, the tears streaming 
 down his face, endeavoring to comfort him by 
 patting him on the back and babbling that 
 "boats didn't upset nowadays, that they 
 were too well built, that he hadn't heard of a 
 drowning accident for years," and similar 
 idiocies. 
 
 Suddenly there was a general gasp, as if 
 everyone had on the same instant felt the need 
 of taking breath and then a silence. The boat 
 had upset. From a long way off came a faint 
 cry of "Help! Help!" in Ruth's voice. Mr. 
 Stuyvesant lifted his old, tear-bloated face from 
 his hands in time to see Bill Reid leap from the 
 rail and dash down to the shore, pulling off his 
 coat as he ran. A new hope galvanized him into 
 a semblance of his old self, and brought the 
 color of life back to his livid lips. 
 
 Again the porch was a babel of tongues. But
 
 LIFE 117 
 
 now the tones were vibrant with hope. The 
 note of anguish was hushed. 
 
 * ' See, see ! Burnett 's reached the boat ! He 's 
 trying to push it toward her! Oh, why can't 
 he swim!" 
 
 And then, with a sudden ecstatic shout: "It's 
 Bill ! Go it, Bill, go it ! Oh, you Bill Reid ! ' ' 
 
 "Now he's almost to her. She's shaking her 
 head. Faster, faster, Bill Reid ! Ah, my God, 
 she's down!" 
 
 Many of the women hid their heads. Mr. 
 Stuyvesant reeled on his feet. There came a 
 delirious cry from Ralph: 
 
 ' ' She 's come up again, there she is, there she 
 is!" 
 
 "He's nearly there! He's he's got her! 
 Bill Reid's got her!!" 
 
 "A-a-a-a-h!" 
 
 There was a breath-caught silence for a sec- 
 ond, and then a cheer such as the old training 
 quarters had never heard tore the air. 
 
 "HOORAY, H-0-O-R-A-Y!!!" 
 
 All this time Grace had been standing leaning 
 against a pillar of the porch, staring, staring, 
 with eyes that saw nothing, at the stretch of 
 water. As the ringing cheer broke on her ears, 
 she gave a little moan and buried her face in 
 her hands. 
 
 "Tom, oh Tom!" 
 
 With a wrenching effort she uncovered her 
 face and forced herself to look again. Reid, with 
 the unconscious girl in his arms, had just
 
 118 LIFE 
 
 stepped ashore, and Tom, the water no higher 
 than his waist, was not far behind. 
 
 "Thank God, he's safe too," she murmured, 
 and, hardly knowing what she did, she let her- 
 self be swept along with the crowd who were 
 pouring down the steps to meet their darling 
 hero, Mr. Stuyvesant at their head. 
 
 Up, up he came, laughing as he tried to shake 
 the dripping hair out of his eyes, Euth lying in 
 his arms, a limp, wet figure with closed eyes. 
 
 "My little girl, my little girl !" whispered her 
 father, holding out his arms. 
 
 "She's all right," called Eeid reassuringly. 
 "She's just fainted, that's all." 
 
 But the sight of the unconscious figure was too 
 much for some of the other girls, in their semi- 
 hysterical state. 
 
 "She's dead, she's dead, I know she is!" 
 shrieked Dorothy. 
 
 "She's so white!" sobbed Alice. 
 
 "What can we do!" whimpered Lillian, 
 wringing her hands. 
 
 "Why not keep quiet ? I tell you she's all 
 right," said Eeid soothingly, as he as gently as 
 possible shoved a way for himself and his bur- 
 den through the clustering women, to get into 
 the house where Euth could receive proper at- 
 tention. 
 
 "I I I I " began little Jones, fairly 
 
 dancing in his excitement. 
 
 "That will do," said Jennie sternly. "You 
 can tell us all about yourself later. The best
 
 LIFE 119 
 
 thing you can do now is to go and find some 
 whisky somewhere." 
 
 "That's the idea," said Hampton heartily. 
 "And take her and wrap her in blankets. She'll 
 be all right." 
 
 "But whatever will she do for clothes?" 
 asked Alice. 
 
 "If I took off another thing " began 
 
 Dorothy, when Mrs. Andrews came to the 
 rescue. 
 
 "Sure the poor darlin' can have some of 
 Gracie's. You could lend Miss Stuyvesant 
 something, couldn't you, dear?" she asked, 
 turning to Grace and furtively wiping her eyes 
 with the corner of her apron. 
 
 For a moment Grace hesitated. Her eyes 
 were fastened on Burnett, a dripping, dejected 
 figure, coming slowly toward them. No one was 
 paying the slightest attention to him. 
 
 "Certainly; if my poor things are good 
 enough for Miss Stuyvesant, ' ' she said in a tone 
 of mock humility. 
 
 But she remained standing where she was, 
 still looking at Burnett, who, without seeming 
 to be conscious of her presence, stalked by her 
 into the house. Most of the young people were 
 still too excited to remain inactive. Some of 
 them ran down to the shore to look at the place 
 where the overturned boat had been hauled up ; 
 others gathered around Mr. Stuyvesant, now 
 nearly himself again, shaking his hand and 
 felicitating him on Ruth's escape; still others
 
 120 LIFE 
 
 gathered in little knots and went over the thrill- 
 ing events of a moment before, telling what had 
 been their various emotions as the boat upset, 
 as Euth sank from sight, and when Bill Eeid 
 dashed to the rescue. 
 
 And still Grace made no move to get the prom- 
 ised things He had dared to pass her without 
 even a look, when he must have known how she 
 had suffered during those dreadful moments 
 when he was in such deadly peril. The fool ! Did 
 he think that she lacked the courage to take the 
 obvious revenge that lay to her hand ? For the 
 moment the rage that consumed her, making her 
 head burn as if it were on fire while her whole 
 body was deadly cold, made all other considera- 
 tions seem petty by comparison. Father, 
 mother, reputation, all were as nothing when 
 weighed in the scales against her overwhelming 
 desire to ruin her erstwhile lover and crush her 
 insolently pampered rival at one fell swoop ! 
 
 "I heard you scream above all the others 
 when the boat went over," said an insinuating 
 voice at her elbow. It was Ealph. 
 
 "Did I scream? I suppose I was frightened." 
 
 "May I say that you are very beautiful when 
 you are frightened?" Ealph lowered his voice 
 so that his father, who refused to be kept out of 
 the house a moment longer, could not hear. 
 
 "You didn't say anything like that to me 
 when. you were here five years ago." 
 
 The glance she gave him had stirred the blood 
 of stronger men than he.
 
 LIFE 121 
 
 "I was a fool five years ago," said Ealph 
 hotly. "I couldn't appreciate a girl like you 
 then." 
 
 Over in the corner of the porch Dorothy, who 
 was talking with Harry Dalton while watching 
 Ralph's eager face, raised her eyebrows in- 
 quiringly. 
 
 "Oh, he never overlooks a bet!" was Harry's 
 comment, as he followed her glance. 
 
 "Wouldn't you like to come to New York 
 to live? " went on Ealph. 
 
 Before Grace could reply, the voice of Jen- 
 nie Bruce, politely ironical, came from the door- 
 way. 
 
 "I'm sorry to interrupt, but if you could 
 bring the things " 
 
 "How very stupid of me, I'm sure I beg your 
 pardon," said Grace, starting to go into the 
 house. " Again, it is au revoir," she said in 
 a low tone with her most coquettish smile. 
 
 For a moment Mr. Stuyvesant blocked her 
 passage. 
 
 "Everything's lovely. She's coming around 
 finely. Only Hampton, who is something of a 
 doctor as well as a coach, thinks she ought to 
 rest quietly for a while." 
 
 There was a general clapping of hands and 
 cries of "Splendid!" and "That's fine!" 
 
 "I beg your pardon, ' ' he said, making way for 
 Grace. 
 
 At the door, once more she and Burnett came 
 face to face.
 
 122 LIFE 
 
 It was plain that he was still deeply chagrined, 
 in spite of an assumed bravado. He was wear- 
 ing a jersey and an old pair of trousers which 
 did not make him appear to advantage. 
 
 His semi-jocular, * * Sorry to have spoiled the 
 party," was received in chilling silence. 
 
 "All right, are you?" said one of the men 
 carelessly after a moment. 
 
 Burnett saw his mistake. Turning to Mr. 
 Stuyvesant with something very like genuine 
 emotion, he said: 
 
 "Mr. Stuyvesant, I don't know what to say. 
 Somehow I lost control of the boat and the next 
 thing we were in the water. I can't swim. 
 I tried to get the boat to her. My God, 
 
 it's a nightmare! If she had If the 
 
 worst had happened " he finished with a 
 
 shudder. 
 
 "I understand, Tom," said the old gentle- 
 man, putting his hand affectionately on his 
 shoulder. "I know just how you feel. It was 
 just an unfortunate accident. It will make no 
 difference to any of us. Don't let us think 
 any more about it." 
 
 " Thank you, sir!" 
 
 Grace, having picked out from the modest 
 contents of her trunk the dress which she judged 
 would be the most unbecoming to Ruth 's general 
 coloring, slipped out of the house by the back 
 way, having no wish to see Burnett again for the 
 moment. Besides, she wanted to be by herself 
 for a little and think things over. The idea of
 
 LIFE 123 
 
 utilizing Ralph in her general scheme for pay- 
 ing off her score against both Ruth and Tom 
 seemed fraught with possibilities. There was 
 no mistaking his manner. Too many men had 
 looked at her before with wolfish eyes for her 
 to have any doubts on that subject. And Grace 
 was no prude, and had the courage to look 
 things in the face, when she was communing 
 with her own thoughts. 
 
 From time to time stories of Ralph's affairs 
 with women had come to her ears. According 
 to the common report, he was as changeable as 
 he was weak; but he was also prodigally gen- 
 erous. It was said that no woman had ever been 
 able to hold him for long. Indeed ! Grace, who 
 was never guilty of self -depreciation, was pre- 
 pared to back herself to hold him as long as it 
 should serve her purpose. And her real pur- 
 pose, as she acknowledged to herself, was, after 
 all, to get Tom back. The woman did not live 
 who should be permitted to steal him from her 
 for long. In the meantime, she would take toll 
 from all of them in one way or another. She 
 was by no means naturally fastidious, but there 
 was something about Ralph's general appear- 
 ance, his shortness of stature, his lack of physi- 
 cal impressiveness, that made her mentally char- 
 acterize him as "a miserable little shrimp." 
 Her meditations were suddenly brought to an 
 end by the voice of the gentleman thus flatter- 
 ingly described. 
 
 "I saw you coming round the corner of the
 
 124 LIFE 
 
 house. I don't mind confessing that I was 
 watching for you. Will you forgive me ? ' ' 
 
 "Forgive you! What is there to forgive? 
 Besides, I can't help feeling flattered that you 
 should take a passing interest in a poor girl 
 like me." 
 
 "A passing interest! Ah, you don't know me. 
 Tell me, how would you like to come to New 
 York to live?" 
 
 "How would I like it?" she repeated eagerly. 
 "But why do you say such things, Mr. Stuy- 
 vesant, when you must see that for me it is 
 impossible?" 
 
 "I don't see that at all, particularly since I 
 could easily make it possible, if you'll only let 
 me help you." 
 
 "No, no! I couldn't do that. A girl who does 
 that well, it leads to too much." 
 
 As they talked, they slowly made their way 
 over to a little ornamental summer-house stand- 
 ing on a knoll some distance from the house 
 from which, while more or less screened by the 
 vines which covered it from the observation of 
 the people out on the lawn, they themselves 
 could keep a watchful eye on the crowd below 
 them in case they should be missed. 
 
 But almost hidden as they were, they had not 
 escaped the watchful eye of Burnett. He had 
 been by no means oblivious of Grace's black 
 looks, and, now that he had sufficiently recov- 
 ered from his own personal discomfiture over 
 the unfortunate accident in which he had played
 
 LIFE 125 
 
 so sorry a part to give some thought to her, he 
 had wisely decided that she must be placated 
 one way or another, at least for the present. 
 
 He had always considered that an angry 
 woman was one of those forces of nature upon 
 whose action the wise man takes no unneces- 
 sary chances. Grace must be soothed, her sus- 
 picions lulled to sleep until such time as he 
 could make her see that there was nothing in 
 his plans for the future that need in any way 
 alter their relations. 
 
 He had intended all along telling her that he 
 was going to marry Ruth because her money 
 was absolutely necessary for the furtherance of 
 his ambitions, but he had expected to break the 
 news to her once she had settled upon the place 
 of her temporary exile. Coming upon her on 
 this accursed outing had been as disconcerting 
 as it was unexpected. 
 
 His eye having been caught by a woman's 
 light dress, only partly hidden by the vine- 
 covered arbor, he had easily recognized the 
 charming outline of the head of the wearer. One 
 swift glance about him had failed to discover 
 the presence of Ralph. To him too, and not for 
 the first time, had come the thought that Ralph 
 might be most useful in the present juncture. 
 
 Having no foolish scruples about eavesdrop- 
 ping, he had made a wide detour, arriving be- 
 hind the arbor in time to hear Ralph say, in his 
 most persuasive tones: 
 
 1 ' Suppose you think it over. What 's here for
 
 126 LIFE 
 
 you? Nothing but to grow old and die of dry 
 rot. Think of the city, of the cafes, the theaters, 
 and all sorts of jolly times. That's life, while 
 this " he made a sweeping gesture of con- 
 tempt. 
 
 "But how can a poor girl ever hope to have 
 all that?" 
 
 Grace's assumption of country-bred innocence 
 almost made Burnett laugh aloud. 
 
 "That's for me to show you," said Ealph, 
 getting possession of her reluctant hand. 
 "Don't you think that you could trust me! 
 I mean," as she still hesitated with downcast 
 eyes, "couldn't you trust yourself with me?" 
 
 "Y-e-s," she said slowly, flashing an eloquent 
 glance at his flushed face, "I think I could trust 
 myself with you." 
 
 Ealph 's natural response was to take her in 
 his arms. Their lips met in a long kiss. 
 
 Burnett judged it time to make his presence 
 known. Having slipped away a short distance, 
 he suddenly appeared from around the corner. 
 
 "Where the devil did you come from?" de- 
 manded Ealph crossly. 
 
 Grace looked becomingly confused. 
 
 "I'm sorry to interrupt this little party, but 
 your wife's been looking for you everywhere." 
 
 "Oh, damn " said Ealph, getting slowly 
 
 to his feet. 
 
 For a moment Grace met Burnett's quizzical 
 look with one of open defiance. How much 
 had he overheard? Not for a second did she
 
 LIFE 127 
 
 believe that he had just come upon them as his 
 manner implied. Very well, let him make the 
 most of it! Perhaps he would realize at last 
 that if she had been true to him, it had only been 
 because she had chosen to be. There were 
 plenty of richer men whom she could have had 
 by merely crooking her little finger. Even this 
 miserable little creature was the son of a multi- 
 millionaire. If it was to be war between them, 
 it was well to know it as soon as possible. Why 
 on earth didn't the little beast go on about his 
 business in place of standing there as confused 
 as a child caught stealing jam ! 
 
 "I I was just trying to persuade Miss An- 
 drews that she ought to come to New York," 
 said Ralph awkwardly. 
 
 "Why, I think that's a splendid idea," his 
 friend assured him. 
 
 His words cut Grace like a knife. For the mo- 
 ment, all of her new-found spirit of revolt died 
 within her. It was all she could do to keep back 
 the tears at the cynical callosity of his tone. 
 
 With a murmured excuse about ' ' being needed 
 in the house," she hurried away. 
 
 "What luck?" asked Burnett. 
 
 "She's an angel!" declared Ralph raptur- 
 ously. 
 
 "Y-e-s, only remember, my boy, angels come 
 high." 
 
 There came the discordant clang of a bell. 
 
 * ' Ladies and gents ! Supper, supper ! ' ' called 
 Mrs. Andrews.
 
 128 LIFE 
 
 From where they stood they could see the 
 girls and fellows, all the terror of an hour be- 
 fore forgotten as completely as if it had all 
 been nothing more than a bad dream, forming 
 in a double line and dancing up to the house to 
 the tune of an improvised march sung at the tops 
 of their voices. 
 
 "R-a-1-p-h! T-o-m!" called the voice of Mr. 
 Stuyvesant. 
 
 * * Aren 't you coming in ? ' ' 
 
 "No, thanks, I'm not hungry," said Burnett, 
 turning on his heel and puffing his cigar into a 
 red glow so that Grace might see it from the 
 window.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 SHE came, as he knew she would ; vainly try- 
 ing to mask, under a cold and indifferent ex- 
 terior, the storm of jealousy that was consum- 
 ing her. 
 
 "I thought possibly you might have some- 
 thing to say to me, as that little fool inter- 
 rupted us the only time I have had the pleasure 
 of seeing you to-day." 
 
 "And so you're coming back to town under, 
 other what shall I say? auspices." 
 
 Grace shrugged her shoulders. "You seem 
 amazed," she mocked him in turn. "He's been 
 trying to flirt with me all day," she said with 
 a sort of angry scorn. 
 
 "Not altogether unsuccessfully, I should 
 gather. Well, why don't you?" 
 
 "So that's what your love has come to! 
 After all I've been to you. Now, you'd toss me 
 
 over to another man as though I Oh, 
 
 Tom, how can you?" 
 
 He drew her a little further away from the 
 house. 
 
 "Listen, Grace dearest," he said in the low, 
 caressing tone she so well remembered, hold- 
 ing both her hands in his, "I'm talking for your 
 own good, because I love you as much as ever. 
 He's young, and a fool a rich fool to boot.
 
 130 LIFE 
 
 You can wind him round your finger. You'll 
 have everything that I can't hope to give you: 
 jewels, a beautiful apartment, servants, motors 
 you can get rich yourself." 
 
 ' ' I can 't stand him ! I hate him ! " 
 
 "Many a pretty girl marries a man she hates 
 for money. Why, you know I'm not in love 
 with her myself and yet I've got to marry Ruth 
 Stuyvesant." Then, as he felt her shudder, he 
 took her in his arms. "I'm doing the same 
 thing. And there's one thing you're forgetting. 
 He's married. You've always got the upper 
 hand. He can't face a scandal. So, when you 
 get ready to break with him when you can't 
 stand it any longer, he'll have to pay and pay 
 big!" 
 
 With a violent effort, Grace tore herself free 
 from his arms. 
 
 "No, no, I tell you! I won't do it!" 
 
 "You won't?" 
 
 He made a strong effort for self-control, as he 
 Sk'w that once more she was swept by a wave 
 of jealous rage. Better let it spend itself now 
 while they were sure of not being disturbed. 
 His strongest card; the one that, unless all his 
 experience of women was at fault, would be 
 sure to move her, was still unplayed. 
 
 "Why should II Why should I!" she de- 
 manded in a tone hoarse with passion. "It 
 would be giving you to a woman I hate, and tak- 
 ing a man that fairly fills me with loathing! 
 Why should I sacrifice myself for you? You've
 
 LIFE 131 
 
 shown how much you care for me. Very well; 
 I'll show you how much I think of you. I won't 
 go to him, I tell you. But I'll go to her! I'll 
 tell her everything. All about you and me. 
 You must have been making love to her for a 
 long time to be sure that she will marry 
 you. I'll tell her that while you were making 
 love to her, you were living with me. That when 
 you were talking of love and marriage and all 
 that I was waiting and watching for your re- 
 turn. That when you left her with her kisses 
 on your lips, it was to hurry back to me. That 
 while she was dreaming of your love, you 
 were in my arms. I'll tell her all that, 
 and I'll tell her now, before she leaves this 
 place!" 
 
 She turned toward the house. 
 
 "Just one moment," he said, laying a de- 
 taining hand on her arm. 
 
 "You sha'n't stop me." She shook off his 
 hand. 
 
 "I don't intend to try. I only want you to 
 realize just what you are doing." 
 
 "Oh, I know!" 
 
 "No, you don't. Wait, I'll only keep you a 
 moment." 
 
 They looked at each other for a moment in 
 silence. She, furious and defiant; he, steadily, 
 with a little smile which suggested triumph, just 
 touching his lips. She was frankly puzzled. He 
 saw that. 
 
 "If you do what you say you intend doing,"
 
 132 LIFE 
 
 he went on in a low but clear tone, "yon will 
 send me to prison, neither more nor less. That 
 is God's truth." 
 
 She gave an exclamation of terror. 
 
 1 'Prison! But you're joking. You're try- 
 ing to frighten me. How would anything I said 
 send you to prison?" And as he kept silent, 
 she added, with a new bitterness, ' ' Since when 
 did deceiving a girl become a penitentiary of- 
 fense?" 
 
 "It isn't. But" he now spoke with marked 
 deliberation, emphasizing each word, that by no 
 possibility could she misunderstand him "but 
 taking money from a bank with which to support 
 a girl one loves in luxury is. It is called steal- 
 ing. And that, you know, is a penitentiary of- 
 fense. ' ' 
 
 ' ' Tom ! Tom ! You don 't mean ' ' 
 
 She gave a little moan, and stretched out her 
 arms with a protecting gesture. All the pride 
 and anger were gone from her face. 
 
 He followed up his advantage. 
 
 "Ah, my darling, you never knew how much 
 I cared ! I loved you too much to be able to say 
 'no' to anything you wanted. Consequently," 
 with a shrug, "after my recent losses in the 
 market, I find that I owe Stuyvesant and Com- 
 pany the sum of one hundred thousand dollars. 
 Bather more than I can repay, if suddenly 
 called upon to do so!" 
 
 "But if you only owe it that's not steal-
 
 LIFE 133 
 
 A new hope was bringing the color back to 
 her white face. 
 
 "I say I 'owe' it," replied Burnett with a 
 crooked smile, "because I intend to pay it back, 
 and because to be perfectly honest I shy 
 at the word that is usually used to cover such 
 cases. But if the 'debt' is discovered before it 
 is paid, the law will call it by the harsher name 
 of defalcation; and the sentence for that will 
 be ten years in Sing Sing, at the very least." 
 
 ' ' Oh ! " For a moment she buried her face in 
 her hands. 
 
 "Now you understand why I must marry 
 Miss Stuyvesant, and why I ask this particular 
 sacrifice of you." 
 
 ' ' Tom ! Tom ! ' ' she cried in an agony of love 
 and self-reproach. " Forgive me. I didn't 
 know. I couldn't. I feel so guilty to think that 
 it was I, I who made you take all that money. 
 Forgive me, forgive me ! ' ' 
 
 She snatched his hand and pressed it to her 
 lips. For a moment he stroked her bowed head 
 in silence. 
 
 "Sh! Sh! Someone might hear you. It's 
 all right, dearest. I regret nothing. After all, 
 we were very happy, and I'll pay it all back if 
 only I get the time. But you see now why I 
 need time." 
 
 "I see that, and I see, too, that you want me 
 to get him in my power so that he may be in the 
 same fix that you're in. You intend to 'get 
 something' on him."
 
 134: LIFE 
 
 "That's it exactly. Then, even if it is dis- 
 covered, I'm safe." 
 
 "Gra-cie! Gra-cie!" called Mrs. Andrews 
 from the house. 
 
 "Yes, mother, I'm coming." 
 
 "Will you do it?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "You darling!" 
 
 "I do it for you, Tom." 
 
 "I know." 
 
 "Gra-cie!" 
 
 "Yes, mother!" 
 
 "Where are the extra cups?" 
 
 "I'm coming; I'll get them. Then it's good- 
 by between you and me?" 
 
 "I don't see why if we're careful." 
 
 A look of joyful surprise made her face 
 bloom once more. With a smile and a nod of 
 comprehension, she ran quickly into the house. 
 
 With a long sigh of relief, he threw away his 
 extinguished cigar. 
 
 "That settles that/' he said to himself, as 
 Ruth and Bill Reid appeared in the doorway. 
 He met them at the foot of the steps. 
 
 "I want to thank you, Mr. Eeid," said Bur- 
 nett, holding out his hand and speaking with 
 a great show of heartiness, "for what you did. 
 Ruth's life is very precious to me. I'm sure 
 you understand." 
 
 Somehow Bill Reid did not seem to see the 
 outstretched hand. At least he made no move 
 to take it.
 
 LIFE 135 
 
 "Yes, I understand," was all he vouchsafed 
 in reply. 
 
 "Do you know " began Euth, seeking to 
 
 break the awkward silence that followed Reid's 
 sententious remark, when she was interrupted, 
 to her great relief, by her father's joining them. 
 
 "Mr. Eeid, I've been waiting to catch you." 
 His voice was husky with deep feeling. ' * You 've 
 put me under an obligation to-day that I'll never 
 be able to repay." 
 
 This time Reid saw the hand held out to him, 
 and grasped it warmly, blushing a fiery red as 
 he did so. 
 
 "Er er er, I mean it wasn't anything, 
 sir." 
 
 "Not anything to save my life!" cried Ruth 
 with a great show of indignation. In spite of 
 Grace's amiable intentions, she was looking dis- 
 tractingly pretty which was thoughtless of her, 
 poor Reid being upset enough as it was. The 
 unhappy lad went blundering on. 
 
 "I mean er I mean Why, I'd pull a 
 
 dog out of the water any time!" 
 
 ' ' Oh, thank you ! ' ' said Ruth with marked en- 
 thusiasm. 
 
 Reid gave her a despairing glance. 
 
 * * I er I I say please ! I mean the only 
 way to thank me, is not to thank me, ' ' he said 
 with a sudden inspiration. 
 
 "Have you ever thought of banking as a pro- 
 fession? Stuyvesant and Company can use a 
 man of courage and quick thought like you. ! 
 
 > >
 
 136 LIFE 
 
 "Well, sir, I I " 
 
 "Father, dear," said Euth sweetly, "he thinks 
 you're trying to pay him for pulling a dog out 
 of the water." 
 
 * ' Nonsense ! ' ' laughed her father. ' ' Think it 
 over," he added, giving the big shoulder a 
 friendly pat. 
 
 "Yes, thanks. I will." 
 
 Burnett had remained silent throughout the 
 conversation. Even when Mr. Stuyvesant had 
 turned to him, as if expecting his indorsement 
 when he made his offer to Reid, he had held his 
 tongue. Indeed, to judge from his expres- 
 sion, one would have said that he had not heard 
 him. 
 
 But Euth knew better. And it was partly to 
 punish him for what she considered a dis- 
 courtesy both to her father and herself that 
 she turned to the still embarrassed young man 
 with her most engaging smile. 
 
 "Won't you show me the walk along the 
 river, Mr. Eeid!" 
 
 "Gladly," said he eagerly. 
 
 With a scowl which he was at no pains to 
 conceal, Burnett stalked into the house. 
 
 The walk along the river was not especially 
 picturesque and it could hardly have had the 
 charm of novelty for either of them. Miss 
 Stuyvesant had already taken it earlier in the 
 day, and certainly the stroke of the crew must 
 have been tolerably familiar with it. But it is 
 highly probable that had it been paved with
 
 LIFE 137 
 
 gold and precious stones, neither would have 
 noticed it. Under certain peculiar conditions 
 there is a form of blindness which temporarily 
 affects people, it is said. This is particularly 
 true of the young of the species. 
 
 After a silence which seemed to Eeid, vainly 
 racking his brains for something to say, to have 
 lasted for a period only to be measured in cen- 
 turies, and which, however blissful to him per- 
 sonally, must stamp him in the mind of his com- 
 panion as being a brainless idiot, Euth said 
 softly : 
 
 "You know I didn't thank you." 
 
 "Miss Stuyvesant, if you start that again, 
 I'll I'll leave you!" He spoke with an elo- 
 quence surprising in a young man who had been 
 absolutely tongue-tied only a moment before. 
 
 "It's queer," said the girl in the tone of 
 one meditating upon purely abstract subjects, 
 "but I never met a man at all like you. Some- 
 how I feel so comfortable, so safe, with you." 
 
 "That's funny. For I don't feel a bit safe 
 with you ! ' ' 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 Nothing could have been more innocent than 
 her tone. So overcome with astonishment was 
 she that she sank upon a rustic bench that, fortu- 
 nately, happened to be by the side of the path. 
 It is barely conceivable that she had seen it 
 earlier in the day. It would have been very 
 awkward to have remained standing, so Bill 
 took the place beside her.
 
 138 LIFE 
 
 "I don't know why. But look; I'm as shaky 
 as if I had just come in from a hard race." 
 
 He held a trembling hand in front of her to 
 prove it. 
 
 "That's funny. So am I!" 
 
 She also produced the proof. And it shook 
 even harder than his had done. What a won- 
 derful hand it was ! So white and small beside 
 his great paw. Mr. Reid was lost in the wonder 
 of it, when, by a perfectly natural accident con- 
 sidering how they both trembled, the small hand 
 and the big one met. 
 
 "Oh!" 
 
 "Ah!" 
 
 An electric shock could hardly have startled 
 them more. 
 
 "I beg your pardon." His tone was husky 
 with contrition. 
 
 "Certainly," she said faintly. 
 
 "That never happened to me before." 
 
 "Nor to me." 
 
 There was a long pause. 
 
 "Do you know," said Reid at length, with the 
 air of one who has made a discovery as novel as 
 it is startling, ' ' I mean do you suppose that peo- 
 ple can sort of know each other without know- 
 ing each other before?" 
 
 To this extremely complicated question, after 
 several moments devoted to considering it care- 
 fully, she gave a nod of assent. From the bluff 
 above and behind them came the soft sound of 
 mandolins, guitars and banjos and the refrain
 
 LIFE 139 
 
 of college songs. Supper was over and the rest 
 of the party were making the most of the time 
 that remained before they must start back to 
 the city. Over the tops of the trees the moon 
 could just be seen. It would beautify the whole 
 way home, Euth thought. But she felt strangely 
 disinclined to think of leaving this really charm- 
 ing spot for any ride, however beautiful. 
 
 "I wouldn't have gone rowing with Tom Bur- 
 nett if you hadn't been sitting on the porch, 
 you know." 
 
 "You mean it?" His face was alight with 
 eagerness. 
 
 "Yes," she nodded. "I just happened to 
 look over there and saw you, and " 
 
 "I saw you, too." His hand crept along the 
 bench toward hers. 
 
 "You see, I knew Tom couldn't row much. 
 But I thought just sort of felt a sort of 
 'he's there' feeling." 
 
 He made an abrupt movement as if he were 
 about to take her in his arms, but she was too 
 preoccupied to notice it. 
 
 "Even when the boat went over," she went 
 on, "I wasn't really frightened. It just sort of 
 flashed on me: 'Now he'll have to save me!' 
 And you did." 
 
 "Oh, I wish I had a million dollars !" 
 
 The utter irrelevancy of the remark did not 
 seem to strike her as being at all singular. 
 
 "You will some day," she assured him 
 calmly.
 
 140 LIFE 
 
 "Yes, but I want it now." 
 
 "The remarkable thing is that you've accom- 
 plished so much all by yourself. That's what 
 makes it seem so wonderful to me." 
 
 I ' But I haven 't done anything yet, you know. ' ' 
 "Oh, haven't you? Why, the boys have told 
 
 me " 
 
 "What?" 
 
 "Oh, how you started by earning your way 
 through college, and that now you're the most 
 popular man at Yale and the greatest athlete. ' ' 
 
 "But I'm really just at the beginning, you 
 know," he said modestly. "A man's hard life 
 doesn't begin until he leaves college." 
 
 "If only you would go to work under my 
 father " 
 
 "But don't you understand? I don't want 
 having you associated with anything but 
 but " 
 
 "But what?" 
 
 I 1 Oh, well ' ' He threw out his hands with 
 
 a gesture of embarrassment. 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 "I just saw you for the first time to-day," 
 he said in a low voice. 
 
 "You forget that we've already decided 
 
 Oh, let's pretend that we've known each other 
 a long, long time." 
 
 "I don't have to pretend. I feel as if I'd 
 known you always. ' ' 
 
 "You certainly acted as though you knew me 
 pretty well," said Ruth with a little burst of
 
 LIFE 141 
 
 laughter at the recollection. "You had your 
 arms around me, and I was clinging to your 
 neck. Oh, it was shocking!" 
 
 "I liked it!" he said with unmistakable pofi 
 tiveness. 
 
 "Well, I must say you didn't act as though 
 you liked it, ' ' she replied with equal conviction. 
 "When I tried to get closer to you, you put your 
 hand under my chin and pushed me away. Do 
 you think that was a nice way to treat a girl?" 
 
 He laughed delightedly. "If you'd been a 
 man I'd have punched you in the jaw!" 
 
 "What!" 
 
 "You were trying to drown me." 
 
 "Oh!" 
 
 "But I promise never to push you away 
 again Euth. ' ' His voice was hardly more than 
 a whisper. But she heard it. 
 
 "You are getting on Bill." 
 
 He reached for her hand. 
 
 "Be careful. Someone might come along and 
 see you." 
 
 "I don't care. Let them!" 
 
 "Well, I do. They they wouldn't under- 
 stand." 
 
 "What's the difference, if you and I under- 
 stand? Oh, I'm a fool, and I know it. But T 
 don't care, I'm going to say it anyhow." 
 
 "Say w-h-a-t?" 
 
 "Say that you've taken entire possession of 
 me. The moment I saw you the instant that 
 we looked into each other's eyes, I knew that
 
 142 LIFE 
 
 you were the one woman in the whole world. 
 The girl born into the world for me. The 
 woman I was meant to meet. The one I was 
 meant to love. My mate!" 
 
 "Bill!" 
 
 He snatched her to his arms and held her in 
 a long embrace. 
 
 "My darling! My own! MyKuth!" 
 
 "I thought you were never going to say it!" 
 came in a muffled voice from the region of his 
 shoulder. 
 
 After he had released her, they sat, both her 
 hands in his, and gazed at each other in silence. 
 Suddenly his face changed. 
 
 "Are you engaged?" he demanded. 
 
 "Well, I hope so!" she said indignantly. 
 
 "You know what I mean. Are you were 
 you engaged to that fellow, Burnett?" 
 
 1 ' I are not and I were not, ' ' she reassured him 
 with a fine disregard for the King's English. 
 
 "Everybody said you were; that is, Miss 
 Bruce told me so." 
 
 "Of course she may know more about it than 
 I do," she teased. And, then, seeing that he 
 was sincerely troubled, she became serious. 
 
 "Listen, dear, big man! I have never been 
 engaged to anybody. Yes, I know that everyone 
 supposes I am as good as engaged to Tom Bur- 
 nett. Perhaps, if you and I had not met I 
 might have been in time. My father, who ad- 
 mires and trusts him more than any young man 
 \Q knows far more, and with reason, I am
 
 LIFE 143 
 
 sorry to say, than he trusts my brother, Ralph 
 has told me that there was no one to whom 
 he would trust me so willingly. And so, al- 
 though I knew that our friends were taking it 
 for granted that it would all come about in time, 
 and although Tom himself vexed me more than 
 once by assuming a more intimate tone with me 
 before people than the circumstances justified, 
 to please my father I just let things drift." 
 
 "Why not? There was no one else. I some- 
 times wondered if it were not all merely the 
 dream of a young girl, that dear dream of the 
 right man coming at last! The one man, as 
 you say, born to be my man. And while Tom 
 and I have always had a sort of brother-and- 
 sister affection for each other, he, too, took 
 things for granted until to-day. 
 
 "But to-day he did propose. Yes, since we 
 came here. At least it was practically a pro- 
 posal. It was right after I had bought you at 
 the auction. He was very angry about it. And 
 I told him then that I did not love him as I had 
 always believed a woman should love the man 
 she was going to give herself to for better, for 
 worse. That liking him as much as I do, he had 
 never for a moment given me that thrill which 
 I felt one must always have when one was in 
 love. He laughed, of course ; most men would. 
 He told me that it was a silly, romantic dream, 
 or something of the sort, that people only felt 
 when they were very, very young. Something 
 or somebody interrupted us then, I don't quite
 
 144 LIFE 
 
 remember what. And he asked me to give him 
 "'his chance.' I suppose he meant to try to per- 
 suade me to say 'yes.' And so we went out on 
 the river. The rest, I need not tell you." 
 
 "And if the boat had not upset when it did, 
 would you would you?" he demanded. 
 
 "How dreadful of you! Don't you intend to 
 leave me even a remnjnt of pride or self- 
 respect!" she laughed. 
 
 But at the look of pain in his eyes, she re- 
 lented, glorying, as women do, in her complete 
 surrender. 
 
 "No, I wouldn't have. For, for the second 
 time our eyes had met you remember, while 
 you were up on the porch, just as I was about 
 to go down to the landing with Tom and I had 
 felt the thrill that I told him he never gave me. 
 And I said: *I will wait a little longer. I 
 will not say 'yes' to him yet awhile. 
 
 "And then I wonder if he remembers it 
 just as we were ready to start, I reminded him 
 that neither of us knew how to swim and " 
 
 "I never heard of anything so mad as a man 
 taking such a risk! It's one thing to imperil 
 his own neck if he wants to, but it's quite an- 
 other to ask anyone else to take the same 
 chance." 
 
 "I suppose you would have felt just the same 
 about it if he had taken Alice, say." 
 
 "Euth!" Once more she was clasped in his 
 strong arms. 
 
 "No, no! Really you mustn't just now.
 
 LIFE 145 
 
 Besides, you are interrupting me. As I was 
 saying, we were joking about not knowing how 
 to swim, and he said if he upset me he would 
 rescue me and then I would have to marry him. 
 And I said I would promise to marry the man 
 who rescued me." 
 
 "Ruth! Suppose " 
 
 "But he couldn't have. And haven't I told 
 you that I knew it would be you?" 
 
 This time she made no remonstrance. 
 
 "Time to go home. Girls and boys, time to 
 go h-o-m-e," called Mr. Stuyvesant.
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 IF there was one way more than another by 
 which Ealph Stuyvesant showed himself to be 
 the spoiled child, it was in his impatience, not 
 only of all restraint and opposition, but of any 
 delay in getting anything upon which he had 
 set his heart. It may have been that, conscious 
 of his own fickle and vacillating nature, he 
 feared to tire of the desired object even before 
 it was his. Euth had once said that she was 
 sure that her brother was the original of the 
 man who wanted what he wanted, when he 
 wanted it. Like many witticisms, its sting lay 
 in its truth. And Ealph had never quite for- 
 given it. 
 
 It can be imagined, therefore, that he knew 
 no peace of mind until the object of his 
 latest fancy was established in New York. As 
 Grace, having once come to her decision, was 
 equally impatient to return to a life which 
 her sojourn in the country had made more than 
 ever alluring by contrast, he met with fewer 
 obstacles to his impatience than he had dared 
 to hope. 
 
 Even then, things were not arranged without 
 the exchange of numerous letters and telegrams. 
 Ealph had seized the occasion to make two 
 clandestine visits to New Haven. But he had 
 
 146
 
 LIFE 147 
 
 little more than his journey for his pains. His 
 divinity had set her foot down on his coming 
 near her father's house; although he had as- 
 sured her that he had been able to invent most 
 plausible excuses, connected with a sudden in- 
 terest in the crew and the coming race, for 
 doing so. 
 
 The best terms he could make with the cruel 
 fair one were that she should grant him the 
 briefest of audiences in the postoffice, of all 
 places. It is hardly to be wondered at that his 
 return to town after each of these exasperat- 
 ingly unsatisfactory rendezvous was marked by 
 symptoms of unusual ill humor. 
 
 But Grace knew, as well as any woman that 
 ever lived, how to promise with a look. And 
 Ralph, who prided himself upon being a fin- 
 ished man of the world, found constant cause 
 for wonderment in the fact that this inexperi- 
 enced country girl, as in his simplicity he be- 
 lieved her to be, could continue to keep him at 
 arm's length. As a consequence, never in his 
 life had his interest been so intrigued. 
 
 As for Grace herself, never had she been in so 
 complex a mood. Her desire to come back to the 
 city was made up of many elements. Almost 
 from the first, she had spells of being restless, 
 lonely and bored. Still, being naturally in- 
 dolent, she would probably have lingered on 
 indefinitely basking in the warmth of her par- 
 ents' affection, until such time as Burnett's 
 affairs should justify their resuming their old
 
 148 LIFE 
 
 way of life, had it not been for his unexpected 
 advent and the news of his projected marriage 
 with the heiress of the Stuyvesant millions. 
 
 Never had his knowledge of women, and of 
 this one woman in particular, stood him in bet- 
 ter stead. He had unerringly struck the only 
 chord to which she would have responded. The 
 role of the woman heroically sacrificing her 
 body and crucifying her affections to save her 
 lover from the consequences of her own uncon- 
 scious selfishness was one that appealed irre- 
 sistibly to her sentimental and theatric nature. 
 
 If she had been capable of weighing things 
 calmly, she would have realized that Burnett 
 alone was to blame for the impasse in which he 
 found himself. While occasionally quarreling 
 with her over her extravagance, he had never 
 once been frank with her concerning his re- 
 sources and income, and she had naturally 
 charged his infrequent complaints to that streak 
 of meanness which Mrs. Watson assured her 
 ran through the most generous of men. 
 
 But even in the height of her emotional en- 
 joyment of her contemplated sacrifice, the fires 
 of her suspicious jealousy which had been, so 
 to speak, banked, not extinguished, would occa- 
 sionally flame into life. At such times it seemed 
 impossible to wait even those few days necessi- 
 tated by Ralph's search for a suitable apart- 
 ment and for the perfecting of the details of 
 her plans to once more leave home without 
 exciting the suspicion of her father and mother.
 
 LIFE 149 
 
 Acting on her instructions, Ralph had writ- 
 ten her a letter from an imaginary agency 
 offering her a position at a salary which, in 
 the eyes of her prudent parents, it would have 
 been flying in the face of Providence to reject. 
 And so, followed by the tearful lamentations of 
 her mother and the disgusted regrets of her 
 father that her new employer's impatience 
 would not permit of her staying a few days 
 longer to witness Yale's coming triumph, she 
 returned to New York. 
 
 Actuated by the sentimental recollection of 
 her first arrival when she had been greeted by 
 Burnett, she had stubbornly refused to allow 
 Ealph to meet her at the station. Indeed, she 
 had had to fight an impish impulse to telegraph 
 to Tom again. On the whole it seemed hardly 
 worth the risk, nor, on consideration, did it ap- 
 peal to her dramatic instinct as being consistent 
 with the part she was about to play. So she had 
 driven alone to the Waldorf where Ealph was 
 to meet her for dinner and where her room was 
 already engaged. 
 
 She had sent word to the hotel where she had 
 lived so long to forward two of the trunks 
 which they were storing for her to her new 
 address. Consequently, when Ealph arrived 
 some hours later, he was divided between 
 amazement and delight on beholding the appari- 
 tion that floated toward him along Peacock 
 Alley. The same thought came to him that had 
 come to Burnett long ago when they had had
 
 150 LIFE 
 
 their first dinner together. "There wasn't a 
 woman who could touch her!" 
 
 At once the plan that he had formed for tak- 
 ing his countrified beauty to some obscure res- 
 taurant vanished into thin mist. They would 
 dine right there where they were. There were 
 sure to be lots of people he knew and he was 
 glad of it. It would be no end of fun to rouse 
 the general curiosity. After to-night, he would 
 take precious good care that she was not seen 
 too much in public places. And if, as fre- 
 quently happened, some gabby should run to his 
 wife with the tale of his having been seen din- 
 ing with an unusually beautiful woman, he 
 could say that "Mrs. Andrews" for so Grace 
 was registered was the wife of an old college 
 friend from Chicago whom he had run into by 
 chance. 
 
 Ralph did not shine as a conversationalist in 
 the most favorable circumstances, and to-night 
 he was not even up to his own average. But 
 Grace hardly noticed it. Once more the old 
 intoxication of covert glances of admiration 
 from the men about her and the open stares of 
 their women companions warmed her heart and 
 mounted to her brain. She did not need the 
 further stimulus of a witty companion. For 
 the moment she forgot that Ralph had always 
 seemed to her little more than a brainless fool 
 and that there was something about him phys- 
 ically that she found almost repellent. 
 
 Her brilliant eyes, her dazzling smile, the
 
 LIFE 151 
 
 occasional touch of her slim, while fingers, fired 
 his blood like wine. This incomparable crea- 
 ture was soon to be his. The food lay almost 
 untasted before him. From time to time he 
 gulped down his glass of champagne which the 
 attentive waiter as regularly refilled, until 
 checked by a look of command from Grace's 
 eyes. 
 
 " Listen, dearest," she whispered, "you 
 really mustn't drink any more just now. I 
 have some things I want to talk to you about, 
 and I am going to send you away right after 
 dinner as I am tired and a little headachy." 
 
 "You don't look it. And see here! Do you 
 mean to say you're not coming round with me 
 to see the apartment I've fixed up? The car, 
 your car 's coming at ten. ' ' 
 
 "My car!" She could hardly believe her 
 ears. "You don't mean to say that I am to 
 have a car of my very own ? ' ' 
 
 "What do you think I am! I'm no piker!" 
 said Ralph boastfully. 
 
 "Of course not, my dear." She gave his 
 hand a little pat. She repented already having 
 been betrayed into such enthusiasm. But, for 
 the moment, the idea of his giving her a car at 
 the very beginning of their friendship had 
 thrown her a little off her balance. He must 
 have money to throw about, with an establish- 
 ment of his own to maintain. 
 
 "Let's wait until to-morrow. I'd so much 
 rather see it with you for the first time by day-
 
 152 LIFE 
 
 light. And then, really, I'm quite tired, what 
 with packing and unpacking and the dozen little 
 things a woman always has to do when she par- 
 ticularly wants to make herself look present- 
 able. You're not ashamed of me, are you? 
 I've not disgraced you? I wanted to look as 
 pretty as I could for our first dinner together." 
 
 "Ashamed of you! Well, I should say not. 
 Gad! You're a queen, all right, all right, when 
 you're dolled up. Where did you get the glad 
 rags, anyhow?" he asked with just a suggestion 
 of ugly suspicion. 
 
 For a moment she struggled against an im- 
 pulse to tell him to his mean, little face never 
 to dare to try to see her again ; that his cars and 
 his apartments and his money could never pay 
 a. woman for having to endure his hateful so- 
 ciety. What had she to fear after all, with her 
 looks? New York was filled with men who 
 would ask nothing better than to pay the ex- 
 penses of a woman as beautiful as she was. She 
 could safely count on staying at the hotel for a 
 week, what with her three trunks, her costumes 
 and her general air of prosperity. And if by 
 the end of a week . And then she remem- 
 bered Tom and her own heroic role. 
 
 "So you like my dress," she laughed. "I'll 
 tell you a little secret about it. I happened to 
 meet a woman from New York not long ago 
 who took quite a fancy to me. She knew all 
 sorts of useful things. Among others, she knew 
 of a place where one could buy second-hand
 
 LIFE 153 
 
 dresses almost as good as new. I went there 
 this afternoon directly from the station. That's 
 why I wouldn't let you meet me. I didn't want 
 you to see me until I had some decent clothes. 
 I've been sewing hard ever since. That's why 
 I 'ma little tired." 
 
 "Well, you're a wonder! All right, I'll let 
 you off till to-morrow. But you can spend the 
 next few days while I'm down at the bank in 
 getting yourself fitted up with new things. My 
 girl isn't going to wear anybody's cast-off 
 finery. It's all very well for once. But you 
 can give that to the French maid I've engaged 
 for you." 
 
 Shortly after dinner she persuaded him to 
 leave her. Having written a note to Burnett, 
 and one to the only address she knew that might 
 find Mrs. Watson, she found that her imaginary 
 headache had become a real one. After all, 
 she was tired. She went early to bed. 
 
 It was the evening before the great race. 
 Grace already felt as if she had spent a lifetime 
 in her present quarters. While a furnished 
 apartment has certain undeniable advantages, 
 living in it is quite like wearing other people's 
 clothes. She recalled what fun it had been, 
 under Mrs. Watson's guidance, picking out the 
 things for the modest little place where she and 
 Burnett had first set up housekeeping. Still, 
 if the truth were known, this was secretly more 
 to her taste, which, as has been intimated, ran 
 rather to the showy. It was more than twice 

 
 154 LIFE 
 
 as large, for one thing, and was more near the 
 center of things. In place of being near lower 
 Fifth Avenue, which was like a country road 
 at night as far as life went, she was now close 
 to her beloved Broadway, well up in the Forties. 
 And here she had a cook and a personal maid 
 as well. If only she had not had to see so much 
 of her proprietor, she would have been fairly 
 contented. 
 
 Ealph had furnished it regardless of expense. 
 No one who had seen his home could ever have 
 dreamed that he had had a hand in the selection 
 of the things that crowded the apartment. 
 Whether in choosing them he had been influenced 
 by some long-forgotten barbaric strain in his 
 blood, or whether he had merely given rein to 
 a mordant humor which prompted him to em- 
 phasize the difference in what he considered 
 suitable for his wife and for his mistress, it 
 would be impossible to say. Burnett himself 
 inclined to the latter theory. 
 
 On this particular evening Grace, no longer 
 Mrs. Andrews, but Miss Barrisford, was in an 
 exceedingly bad temper. In the first place, 
 Burnett had not even telephoned her for sev- 
 eral days, which treatment aroused all her dor- 
 mant suspicions of his good faith. And if that 
 were not enough, Ralph had, for the last three 
 nights, absolutely refused to take her out to 
 dinner, on the ground that he wanted her all to 
 himself. After so large a dose of his unrelieved 
 society, she felt that she had never really
 
 LIFE 155 
 
 known what boredom meant before. She had 
 seen him for a moment in the afternoon and 
 had given him to understand that unless he 
 promised to take her somewhere for supper, he 
 need not expect to enjoy her society at dinner. 
 She had just finished dressing. 
 
 The sight of her reflection in the long mirror 
 in her dressing-room went far toward restor- 
 ing her to a happier frame of mind. She cer- 
 tainly was a most sumptuous figure in a won- 
 derful new gown of white and silver which had 
 just been brought home from her dressmaker's. 
 
 "At what time will Madame be pleased to 
 dine?" asked the maid, as she came into the 
 drawing-room. 
 
 "At eight, Marie." 
 
 "Thank you, Madame." 
 
 "And, Marie," she called as the girl was 
 going out the door, "telephone and have the 
 car come about eleven. We will be going out." 
 
 "Yes, Madame. Thank you, Madame." 
 
 "Oh, Lord!" said Grace with a yawn, "I al- 
 most wish I was back watching the moonlight 
 on the river." 
 
 Taking a cigarette from a gold case which 
 lay on the table, she lighted it and threw her- 
 self pettishly on a huge white and gold divan 
 which filled up one side of the room. 
 
 "Day dreams?" said a mocking voice from 
 the doorway. "They should be golden ones!" 
 
 It was Burnett. As he was dressed for din- 
 ner, she had a sudden hope that perhaps Ralph
 
 156 LIFE 
 
 had found it impossible to escape some dinner 
 at home and had sent his friend as his substi- 
 tute. But she did not mean to show her pleas- 
 nre until she heard his explanation for his 
 neglect. 
 
 "Oh, it's you, is it?" she said carelessly. 
 
 "You don't seem just overjoyed to see me." 
 
 "No? Why should I be? You haven't been 
 near me for three days." 
 
 "After all, this is Ealph's flat." 
 
 "Is that any reason why you shouldn't come, 
 you his best friend." 
 
 ' * There are some things that men don 't share 
 even with their best friends if they know it." 
 
 "I hate him!" she said viciously. 
 
 "Good! You see already it's as though you 
 were married to him." 
 
 "Is it!" In sudden anger, she sprang to her 
 feet. "And how are you keeping your word? 
 You promised, if I'd do as you wanted, that it 
 wouldn't interfere with our being the same to 
 each other as we used to be." 
 
 "Well, we are, aren't we when we get the 
 chance. ' ' 
 
 With a swift movement she threw her arms 
 about him and drew his face down to hers. 
 
 "Care ful!" he cautioned her, his eyes on 
 the door. 
 
 She snatched her arms away and shoved him 
 from her so violently that Burnett would have 
 lost his balance if he had not saved himself by 
 catching at the table.
 
 LIFE 157 
 
 "It is you who should be careful," she 
 stormed. "I see now that you've made a fool 
 of me. You don't care for me any longer. It's 
 her you love. But I " 
 
 Something of her own passion blazed in his 
 face on the instant. 
 
 ' ' Come here ! " He caught her roughly by the 
 shoulder and half dragged her back to him. 
 For a moment he held her head in his two hands, 
 scowling into her defiant, angry eyes. Then, 
 feeling his kisses on her hair, her mouth, her 
 throat, she closed her eyes and lay limply in his 
 arms. 
 
 * ' I love you, and only you ! You understand? 
 Don't ever dare let me hear you say that I 
 don't You know it, don't you? Say so! Say 
 you know it, do you hear? " He shook her so 
 roughly that her hair fell about her happy 
 face. 
 
 She broke away from him, and laughing in 
 triumph, ran over to the mirror. 
 
 "Heavens, what a man you are. Yes, yes, I 
 know it!" 
 
 She smiled coquettishly at him as she twisted 
 up a strand of her hair and deftly fastened it 
 with a jeweled pin. 
 
 "How I look! And" glancing at the clock 
 "I was particularly anxious to look my best 
 to-night as Ralph is really going to take me 
 out to supper." 
 
 She made a mocking face at him and threw, 
 herself once more on the divan.
 
 158 LIFE 
 
 "Oh, do you know, you've never told me what 
 you thought of my new name." 
 
 "Fine! Muriel Barrisford would certainly 
 throw anyone off the scent who was look- 
 ing for Grace Andrews. Where did you get 
 it?" 
 
 "Oh, out of a book I read this summer." 
 
 "I could almost guess who wrote it," he 
 smiled. 
 
 1 * Could you 1 ' ' she said, tapping her lips with 
 her long fingers to hide a little yawn. "It's 
 more than I could. I never know what the 
 creatures call themselves." 
 
 He turned to the window to hide a grin. 
 
 "Well. How's everything going!" 
 
 "The furnishings cost ten thousand dollars." 
 
 "Too cheap." 
 
 "Then there's the car: eight thousand." 
 
 "Y-e-s," he said with a nod, turning back 
 from the window, "ten and eight are eighteen. 
 Store accounts?" 
 
 "Of course." 
 
 "Go only to the best. And the ones that will 
 give you a rebate in cash. ' ' 
 
 "Trust me!" 
 
 "And allowance?" 
 
 "We haven't discussed that yet." 
 
 "Twenty thousand a month and send him 
 all the bills." 
 
 "Oh, you generous darling!" 
 
 "Yes. I'm not giving it to you, you know. 
 Jewels?"
 
 LIFE 159 
 
 11 These." Holding out her hand on which 
 were several rings. 
 
 "Pugh! That can't be fifteen thousand 
 worth. You must have a rope of pearls. ' ' 
 
 "I shall certainly come over and kiss 
 you!" 
 
 "Stay where you are. He'll be here any 
 minute," he warned her. "Let me tell you, 
 my friend, you play with me and I'll get him. 
 I'll get him where I want him, get him where 
 he can't get away!" He strode up and down 
 the room, shaking his clenched fist. 
 
 Grace's eyes narrowed again with the old 
 suspicion. 
 
 "And what do I get I" she said, going over 
 and helping herself to another cigarette. 
 
 "You! You get the pearls, the apartment, 
 the limousine, the " 
 
 "Damn the pearls, damn the limousine, damn 
 the apartment," chanted Grace. "You're what 
 I want!" 
 
 His back was turned toward her. "Lord! 
 again!" he said under his breath. "Well, 
 you'll have me too, won't you, beautiful one? 
 You know There's the bell !" 
 
 She sprang to her feet, and as Ealph came in 
 beaming with happiness, she threw herself in 
 his arms, kissing him ecstatically. 
 
 "Oh, darling, it's you at last. How late you 
 are! You mustn't mind us, Mr. Burnett," 
 making a face over her shoulder, "but I haven't 
 seen my darling since this afternoon. ' '
 
 160 LIFE 
 
 "Oh, I can stand it. Besides, I'm looking 
 out of the window." 
 
 Ealph gave a happy laugh. 
 
 "Hello, Tom. How are you, old man?" 
 
 "Needn't ask how you are. You look too 
 confoundedly happy." 
 
 "Haven't I every right to be? Look! Isn't 
 she beautiful?" He stood off looking at Grace 
 with adoring eyes. 
 
 "She certainly is. How's your wife!" he 
 asked with a change of tone. 
 
 1 1 Very well, ' ' said Ealph sharply. ' ' She and 
 Euth and the lot of them went on up to-night 
 so as to be in time for the races to-morrow." 
 
 "Oh, couldn't we just motor up? I'd love 
 to." 
 
 "I shouldn't advise it," said Burnett, fear- 
 ing that Ealph wouldn't have the strength to 
 refuse. "If your people saw you, or Ealph 's 
 people saw him, then where would you be!" 
 
 "I suppose you'll be there to watch Bill Eeid 
 stroke Yale for victory, " said Ealph maliciously. 
 
 "Oh, I'll be there." 
 
 "Do you know," said Ealph, looking delight- 
 edly round the room, "that this place is begin- 
 ning to feel like my real home. ' ' 
 
 "You darling!" Grace blew him a kiss. 
 
 "In all well regulated families," laughed 
 Burnett, "that's the cue for the wife to ask for 
 something. ' ' 
 
 "Well, I'm not going to," said Grace with a 
 pout. "All the same, when I was downtown
 
 LIFE 161 
 
 to-day, I just happened to stop in Tiffany's, and 
 I did see " 
 
 "What?" asked Ralph, pulling her down on 
 the divan beside him. 
 
 "No!" with a shake of her pretty head 
 "I'm not going to talk about it. You've given 
 me too much already." 
 
 "Nonsense!" 
 
 "No, no. I won't!" 
 
 "Not when you know I want you to?" 
 
 * ' It was so beautiful ! But, no ! " with a little 
 sigh of regret, "It wouldn't be right." 
 
 "But I insist, sweetheart." 
 
 But Grace was not to be moved. She got up 
 and went slowly over to the table and began to 
 rearrange the roses in a silver bowl. Burnett 
 watched her with very genuine admiration. 
 What a comedian she was I 
 
 "Grace, I command you!" said Ealph with 
 mock-heroics. 
 
 She swept him a curtsy. 
 
 "Alas ! If my lord commands It was a rope 
 of pearls." 
 
 "A rope of pearls." Ralph's face was 
 funny in its blank dismay. 
 
 "Oh, it's ridiculous! She's only joking," 
 interposed Burnett. 
 
 "He made me say it," pouted Grace. 
 
 "Well, if " began Ralph. 
 
 "Don't be a fool!" said Burnett roughly. 
 "You're not made of money. A rope of pearls 
 would cost well, Heaven knows what!"
 
 162 LIFE 
 
 She ran lightly across the room and taking 
 Ealph's flushed face in her hands, kissed him 
 lightly on the forehead and turned indignantly 
 to Burnett. 
 
 "I haven't said I wanted it. Of course I 
 don't. I wouldn't embarrass my boy financially 
 for for the whole ocean of pearls. He knows 
 that." 
 
 Ealph needed no further spur. 
 
 "I have given my word," he said pompously. 
 " She shall have them." 
 
 Burnett felt his face grow purple in his ef- 
 forts to strangle a laugh. But with a warning 
 glance in his direction, Grace saved the day by 
 throwing herself into Ralph's arms and burst- 
 ing into a perfect flood of tears. Among her 
 other useful accomplishments was the ability 
 to weep at will without in the least disfiguring 
 herself. 
 
 "Oh my dearest you are too good 
 to me ! ' ' she sobbed. 
 
 And she capped her performance by wink- 
 ing at Burnett behind the morsel of lace 
 with which she at length dried her streaming 
 eyes. 
 
 "Look at me! I must be a sight. And I 
 just know our dinner's ruined. I forgot all 
 about it. Look at the time. " 
 
 "Well, let's go out then. Did she need cheer- 
 ing up, after nearly crying her pretty eyes 
 out!" 
 
 "I think I would like to. But I must go and
 
 LIFE 163 
 
 bathe my eyes and powder my nose. It's prob- 
 ably purple!" 
 
 "You can't be serious, Ralph," remonstrated 
 Tom after she had left the room. 
 
 "But I am, Tom. I tell you, I adore her." 
 
 "In the first place, you haven't the money, 
 as you very well know." 
 
 "I'll pay twenty-five thousand down, and 
 charge the rest." 
 
 "But have you twenty-five thousand on de- 
 posit? Your account doesn't generally get that 
 big." 
 
 "N o o, I haven't," said Ralph with a rue- 
 ful laugh. "But if I should overdraw five or 
 six thousand you could 0. K. the check. You 
 would, wouldn't you, just this once?" 
 
 "And not let your father know. All right, I 
 will. This once. But don't do it too often. 
 Well, now I must be off," he said, looking at hir, 
 watch. 
 
 ' * Oh, stay and have a bite with Grace and me ; 
 or at least wait till she comes back." 
 
 "Can't, thanks. I'm late already. I've an 
 engagement uptown. I'll leave you to make 
 my adieus. She'll be so happy about the pearls, 
 she won't know whether I've made them, or 
 not. She's a wonder!" he said to himself, as 
 he went down in the elevator.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 THEEE is probably no time in life when 
 one feels lonelier than in the first few 
 weeks following graduation. If, as we grow 
 older, solitude, for one reason or another, 
 becomes our portion, we have either grown ac- 
 customed to it, or have learned to bear it with 
 philosophy. But the average youth is essen- 
 tially a gregarious animal with a pronounced 
 distaste for his own unrelieved society. After 
 four years of constant and close companion- 
 ship with his kind, he is chilled by the cool 
 aloofness of the world in general. Too proudly 
 shy to make advances himself, he is not unlike 
 a lost dog in a crowded street, running hither 
 and yon in search of his master, both dreading 
 and longing for the friendly touch of even an 
 alien hand. 
 
 And to Bill Eeid, the popular idol of his little 
 world, this loneliness came with more than the 
 usual force. Never had a summer been so end- 
 less as the one that followed his entrance into 
 the house of Stuyvesant and Company. Had 
 anyone told him that, without his knowledge, 
 the whole system of reckoning time had been 
 altered, and that the months now each con- 
 tained an hundred days, he would not have been 
 
 164
 
 LIFE 165 
 
 greatly astonished. Certainly all the summers 
 of his life had flown by comparison. 
 
 There were several causes that contributed 
 to this state of mind. The confinement, the 
 long hours, the monotonous routine of his days 
 were all so novel, so uncongenial to his tem- 
 perament. And the maddening multiplicity of 
 detail with which he was expected to familiarize 
 himself wearied and harassed his simple and 
 direct mind. 
 
 And oh, how he missed the old outdoor life ! 
 After a long day's confinement, as he walked 
 to the dismal little room which he never could 
 even think of as " home," the heated caverns 
 which New York calls streets, on which the 
 blazing sun had beaten all day, at this hour 
 reeking with an endless stream of perspiring 
 and irritated humanity, faded away. In a sort 
 of mirage, he saw again the long stretches of 
 the river his river on which, ages ago, he had 
 stroked his crew to victory. 
 
 That had been a day! It did not seem now 
 that it could be real. It was only a wonderful, 
 happy dream that he had dreamed. Or else it 
 had happened long, long ago in some previous 
 incarnation. There had not been one thing to 
 mar the whole day or to dim their splendid 
 victory. And that supreme moment, when car- 
 ried on the shoulders of the yelling, cheering 
 throng, he had seen the one face in all the world 
 Ruth's face glowing with pride and happi- 
 ness ! And how her father had cheered !
 
 166 LIFE 
 
 Yes, he could almost have imagined that he 
 had dreamed it all, if he had not had occasional 
 reminders that it was all real when he chanced 
 across some of the fellows he knew, or when 
 sometimes Mr. MacLaren came into the bank. 
 Mr. Stuyvesant always improved these oppor- 
 tunities to point out the young man busy at his 
 desk and roar with laughter. 
 
 " There he is, there he is! That's the man 
 who gave you such a walloping. It must make 
 you sore to see him, Mac ! ' ' And he would dig 
 his friend in the ribs and laugh until he was 
 purple in the face. Mr. MacLaren always 
 scowled portentously. But his manner to Eeid 
 was most cordial and friendly, and there was 
 a look of approval in his keen, blue eyes when- 
 ever they rested on that broad back. 
 
 But the greatest of his woes, besides which all 
 his other troubles, even his great loneliness, 
 dwindled into insignificance, was because of 
 Ruth. She was in Europe with some friends. 
 To be sure, she wrote regularly. Her letters 
 were the only thing that made life even tolera- 
 ble. How he read them and reread them ! They 
 were on the point of falling apart at the creases. 
 He intended showing them to her on her return. 
 
 Of course he did not really want her back. 
 He was hardly brute enough for that. But all 
 the same, he counted the hours until her return. 
 Even if he couldn't see her often, the knowl- 
 edge that she was there, in the big house on 
 the Avenue, would have been tremendously com-
 
 LIFE 167 
 
 forting. He could at least have walked by it 
 late at night, or stood across the street and 
 looked up at the window which he knew to be 
 hers, after the foolish manner of lovers. As 
 it was, he shunned the great empty house, with 
 its drawn blinds and its boarded-up entrance, 
 always making a detour to avoid it when any 
 errand called him to the neighborhood. 
 
 Mr. Stuyvesant was spending his summer at 
 his big country place on Long Island. He, too, 
 missed his daughter sorely. But he had in- 
 sisted on Ruth's accepting the invitation, pro- 
 testing that he had all sorts of pla as for the 
 summer which her presence would only inter- 
 fere with, and that a man wanted a little 
 freedom from his womankind once in a 
 while. 
 
 Ruth understood perfectly that all his blus- 
 tering cloaked an unselfish desire to give her 
 pleasure and that he would be terribly lonely 
 without her. But, aside from the fact that a 
 trip to Europe with a congenial party was most 
 tempting, there were other reasons which influ- 
 enced her in coming to a decision. Ralph and 
 Anna, who had no country place of their own, 
 and who usually spent the summer in a round of 
 visits, promised to pass the greater part of the 
 time with his father, and Ruth hoped that the 
 simple, quiet life and the resumption of the 
 closer intimacy which they had known in his 
 earlier years might be not only beneficial, to 
 Ralph, but might serve to bring them more
 
 168 LIFE 
 
 closely together than they had been for many 
 years. 
 
 And there was now still another person to be 
 considered: her lover. She foresaw how dif- 
 ficult it was going to be for him to adapt him- 
 self to a life so radically different from any 
 he had ever known. But she knew that the same 
 pluck and determination which had carried him 
 through the earlier and harder years at the uni- 
 versity would not fail him in this new test. 
 
 Euth was in many ways a very practical per- 
 son and possessed an ability to look facts in the 
 face unusual in a girl of her years. While her 
 life had been too sheltered a one for her to 
 have any real knowledge of poverty, and while 
 her ideas of the value of money when it came 
 to its purchasing power were of the vaguest, 
 she was too much her father's daughter not to 
 have a large amount of that desirable quality 
 called common sense which enabled her to see 
 things in a large way in their proper prospec- 
 tive. 
 
 Still, for her the world was in general divided 
 into two classes : the people who were in actual 
 want of the necessities of life, of whom one 
 heard and read with a heartache, and the peo- 
 ple who lived beyond their incomes and ran into 
 debt Ralph, for example or had to economize 
 and give up their opera-boxes for a season be- 
 cause the new country house they were building 
 had cost a number of thousands more than they 
 had anticipated. But if, for example, she had
 
 LIFE 169 
 
 had any idea of the salary at which Mr. Wil- 
 liam Reid's services were valued; still more 
 could she have looked into his exceedingly mod- 
 est room and known of the frugality requisite 
 to stretch that same salary until it covered the 
 bare necessities of life, she would have indig- 
 nantly taken the first boat home to lodge an out- 
 raged protest. 
 
 As it was, she often thought of him tied down 
 to his desk in the hot town, missing the old com- 
 panionship which had so long been his, and 
 missing her. She would do her best to make it 
 up to him on her return. But, for the present, 
 it was better that she should be away. She had 
 the vanity to believe that he would be able to 
 apply his mind to learning the banking business 
 more easily with the ocean between them than 
 if she remained at the other end of a telephone 
 on Long Island. 
 
 Of one thing she was positive: she would 
 never have been strong-minded enough to re- 
 sist calling him up several times a day. And 
 she would have certainly wanted him to come 
 down two or three times a week, and of course 
 over Sunday. In which case people would have, 
 been sure to suspect something. 
 
 For their engagement was still a secret. 
 They had come very near to having a quarrel 
 over it. But on this subject Euth was adamant. 
 In vain her lover begged and pleaded. Noth- 
 ing could alter her determination to keep it 
 secret until after her debut, which was to take
 
 170 LIFE 
 
 place in the early autumn. And with the prom- 
 ise that after that important event he might go 
 to her father, he had to be contented. 
 
 That promise and her letters were all that 
 kept him going. Without them, he afterwards 
 said, he would never have been able to stick it 
 out. Even with them to buoy him up, he had 
 his days of black discouragement, when nothing 
 could go right. There were nights when, sitting 
 in his mean little room, he grew sick at heart 
 at the recollection of the blunders he had made 
 during the day, or the things that he had, some- 
 how, contrived to forget. At such moments he 
 bitterly told himself that he was being kept on 
 out of charity, or what amounted to the same 
 thing, out of gratitude: that a lad of fifteen 
 could perform his simple duties better than he. 
 How he longed for anyone to whom he could 
 have poured out his troubles! But alas! The 
 person to whom he would have so gladly turned 
 was on the other side of the world. 
 
 There was another thing that both puzzled 
 and worried him. And that was Ealph's atti- 
 tude toward him. At first he had been 
 friendly enough, putting him up at one of his 
 clubs which boasted of an excellent gymnasium, 
 where he was able to get a little much-needed 
 exercise, and giving him cards to various coun- 
 try clubs to which he belonged, which turned 
 the desert of his Sundays into a comparative 
 oasis. But before the summer was over his 
 manner had completely changed. He no longer
 
 LIFE 171 
 
 came lounging over to Reid's desk several times 
 a day to talk of racing and the days when he 
 had been coxswain of the crew, but contented 
 himself with giving him a curt nod, when he 
 did not pretend not to see him. For a long time 
 this worried Bill a good deal. Not that Ralph 
 was the type of man whom he found at all at- 
 tractive, but he was Ruth's brother, and he was 
 prepared to go more than halfway to establish 
 a friendship. 
 
 He ended by attributing the change to the in- 
 fluence of Burnett, between whom and himself 
 there had not been from the first the faintest 
 pretense of friendliness. The Junior Partner's 
 thinly veiled hostility showed itself on numer- 
 ous occasions. But all his attempts to provoke 
 the anger of the new employee met with defeat. 
 Bill Reid was there to learn the banking busi- 
 ness, and to learn it well and thoroughly. He 
 was not to be diverted from his purpose by any 
 amount of nagging by such a man as Thomas 
 Burnett. 
 
 And then, just at the moment when he had 
 almost decided to go to Mr. Stuyvesant and 
 acknowledge that the experiment had been a 
 failure, that he somehow seemed to lack the 
 capacity necessary for business, and had there- 
 fore better seek some employment which re- 
 quired muscle and not brain, he found that all 
 his problems had solved themselves in some 
 mysterious manner overnight. The work, 
 which only the day before he had been on the
 
 172 LIFE 
 
 point of abandoning as too complex for so mean 
 an intellect as his became not only simple but 
 interesting as well. The hours at the bank were 
 no more like hours spent in prison. His fellow- 
 clerks became human and likable. The very sun 
 seemed to shine with more kindly intent. The 
 air, which during the stifling summer had been 
 heavy and lifeless, as if it had been breathed 
 before, acquired a new invigorating quality. 
 Ruth was on her way back! It was the letter 
 which he carried in his pocket,, giving the date 
 of her sailing, that had worked all these 
 miracles. 
 
 And as if Fortune, who had turned her back 
 on him during all these hard months of ap- 
 prenticeship, was desirous of proving that she 
 had relented, his cup of happiness brimmed 
 over when Mr. Stuyvesant, the day after he 
 had moved back to town, sent for him to tell him 
 that he had been so pleased at the reports of 
 his steadiness and application that he had de- 
 cided to make him his secretary at a substan- 
 tial advance in salary. What news for Ruth ! 
 
 Calendars are foolishly inadequate things. 
 They do no more than record the bald succes- 
 sion of days. But when it comes to measuring 
 the flight of time they are peculiarly useless. 
 According to the one that hung over the crazy 
 table in young Mr. Reid's room heavily 
 scarred with marginal notes and private mem- 
 oranda no one could possibly have told that 
 July, August and September had been perfectly
 
 LIFE 173 
 
 endless and that October, now nearly over, had 
 flown like the wind. 
 
 In the two weeks since Ruth's return they 
 had had several delicious luncheons together, 
 they had had walks in the Park and they had 
 met several times in the Natural History 
 Museum. And while over all their meetings 
 there hung something of the furtive and clan- 
 destine which could not fail to be distasteful to 
 her lover, they were too happy in being together 
 after their long separation, there was so much 
 to tell on both sides; so many plans to be dis- 
 cussed for the future their future that he did 
 not openly rebel, sustained as he was by the 
 thought that all this hateful secrecy would soon 
 be at an end. 
 
 While their love affair was progressing thus 
 satisfactorily uptown, down in the office of 
 Stuyvesant and Company another young 
 couple, in whom Ruth had long been interested, 
 were testing the truth of the adage as to the 
 smoothness of the course of true love. 
 
 On a certain day Miss Tessie Maginnis, one 
 of the stenographers, had just returned from 
 her lunch and had seated herself at her type- 
 writer prepared to go on with her work, when 
 she was startled at receiving an ardent kiss on 
 the cheek. 
 
 " What the Oh, it's you, Dennis 
 
 O'Brien! " 
 
 "Sure!" said the watchman, having cau- 
 tiously assured himself that they were not
 
 174 LIFE 
 
 likely to be interrupted by a hurried glance into 1 
 the several private offices which opened off the 
 room where Tessie was supposed to be at work. 
 " Were you thinkin' it would be anyone else! " 
 
 " Well, you had your nerve! " 
 
 " Tessie," said the culprit pleadingly, " have 
 ye thought any more about what I was after 
 sayin' to ye, Tessie? " 
 
 " And me, busy as I am, an' botherin' my 
 head with foolishness! Forget it! " 
 
 She made a great show of rustling the leaves 
 of her note book while sending a sly glance in 
 his direction. 
 
 " But Father Kelly's the fine man," went on 
 O'Brien, a propos of nothing in particular. 
 
 " Is he, then? " 
 
 " Ye ought to hear him do that weddin' 
 service. It's grand! " 
 
 " Oh, the weddin' part's all right: it's after- 
 wards! " said Miss Maginnis with marked em- 
 phasis. 
 
 " Oh, I don't know. A nice little flat, you 
 know, one of those " 
 
 " Yes, I know. Where you have to go out 
 in the hall to change your mind." 
 
 " You wouldn't be wantin' to change your 
 mind, with the right flat and the right fel- 
 low," said O'Brien insinuatingly. 
 
 " Eoll over," said Miss Maginnis elegantly. 
 " You're on your back! " 
 
 " I'm serious." 
 
 " You're funny, just the same."
 
 LIFE 175 
 
 " Do you never think of havin' your own 
 home your own fireside? " 
 
 Tessie addressed herself to that portion of 
 Heaven represented by the ceiling of the office. 
 
 "Fireside! He ain't even goin' to have 
 steam heat! " 
 
 " With your own little kitchen to play in," 
 went on O'Brien with the air of an enthusiast 
 carried away by his dream. 
 
 Tessie wheeled about in her chair and faced 
 him. 
 
 " Say, what is this? Are you thinMn' of 
 gettin' married? " 
 
 11 I am so." 
 
 " Well, I hope you'll invite me." 
 
 " You'll be there " with deep meaning. 
 
 " That's good." 
 
 O'Brien permitted himself to come a step 
 nearer, only to be squelched by the lady's next 
 remark. 
 
 " Sure, I'll come. I'd like to see the sort 
 of a girl'd take you." 
 
 "Indeed!" he retorted indignantly. "I 
 don't mind tellin' you, Miss Smarty, there are 
 lots of 'em as would." 
 
 Tessie had to cover a laugh with a cough. 
 
 " I don't doubt it. You know what Barnum 
 said : one born every minute." 
 
 " Is that so! Well, let me tell you that this 
 one is a very particular friend of yours. ' ' 
 
 " I wouldn't be surprised. The smartest 
 girl in my class married a man in Blooming-
 
 176 LIFE 
 
 dale. It'll be just my luck to get a crook out 
 of Sing Sing." 
 
 At these words, O'Brien's face underwent a 
 remarkable change. The look which Ruth had 
 long ago characterized as " hunted," which he 
 had lost for the moment, returned and deep- 
 ened in his eyes. Tessie, who had been expect- 
 ing a Rowland for her Oliver, caught it as she 
 looked up at him. 
 
 " That's all right, Miss Tessie," he said 
 huskily, " forget it. I was just kiddinV 
 
 Her own look of blank amazement was suc- 
 ceeded by one of shame and indignation. She 
 seemed as if she were about to cry. 
 
 " Kiddin', were you? And I'm much 
 obliged to you, Mr. O'Brien, for lettin' me 
 know what kind of a gentleman you are." 
 
 " Tessie, I I " 
 
 "It's Miss Maginnis from you, Mr. O'Brien, 
 I'd be pleased to have you remember! " 
 
 " No, I'll be damned if it is! " He had been 
 kicking up the end of the rug with the toe of 
 his shoe; watching it roll back with absorbed 
 interest. But now his head flew up and he 
 looked her straightforwardly in the face. 
 ''I'm not a-goin' to let you think I'm the kind 
 of a guy that would make love to a girl, and 
 then run away. I'm goin' to tell you the truth, 
 no matter what you think of me. I'm not goin' 
 through with it because because I ain't fit to 
 marry you. What you just said made me come 
 to meself. I love you too much, darlin', to let
 
 LIFE 177 
 
 you take up with a man you might one day be 
 ashamed of. So," he finished in a low voice, 
 " we'll just forget that little dream, Tessie 
 Maginnis. ' ' 
 
 " But I don't want to forget it," said Tessie, 
 gulping back a sob. 
 
 " Darlin'! But, no, it ain't right." 
 
 "It's a cinch it ain't right," said Tessie 
 tearfully, " what you're doin' now. Stealin' 
 the heart out of a girl and then sayin': * No, 
 thank you! ' I want to know why you ain't 
 fit, an' I got a right to know. Maybe I ain't 
 no tin angel m'self." 
 
 She hid her face in her handkerchief. 
 
 " It's it's ah, you hit it when you said 
 something just now about Sing Sing, an' 
 stealin'! " 
 
 ' < Sing Sing ! Stealin ' ! ! You ! ! ! " He* 
 voice was hardly more than a whisper, but it 
 seemed to fill the room. 
 
 " My picture's over in the Eogue's Gallery. 
 I done my bit. I'm an ex-con." 
 
 "You! A thief. A pickpocket? " 
 
 " Pickpocket! " he exclaimed wrathfully. 
 * ' What do you think I am? I was Kid Wallace, 
 the bank burglar; the biggest safe-blower in 
 the country." 
 
 Amazement and admiration were in her face. 
 
 " Well," she said, " that's a man's job, any- 
 how. Why, I've heard of you often. Every- 
 body around banks knows of Kid Wallace." 
 
 He smiled with a touch of bitterness. " I
 
 178 LIFE 
 
 guess we give the banks reason to me an' my 
 pal, Joe Schmidt, Dutch Joe." 
 
 " Oh! " exclaimed Tessie in sudden horror, 
 " then you're here to " 
 
 " No, no! On the level, Tessie. I'm square 
 now. I've been square since I come out near 
 on to three years. I know it must look funny, 
 my being here as watchman with my rep.,'"' 
 he went on after a moment, " but, you see, 
 when I come out, I just naturally drifted to a 
 bank. Kinder seemed second nature to me to 
 be hanging round a bank vault." 
 
 He waited a moment for her to speak. But 
 as she seemed to be at a loss for words, he 
 misinterpreted her silence. 
 
 " All right. I don't blame you. I know I 
 ought to have told you, but " 
 
 " What are you going to do? " she asked in 
 a low tone. 
 
 " Quit my job, first off. Couldn't stand 
 bein' round seein' you and thinkin' of what 
 might have happened if I had been different. 
 Yes, I'll quit. And then " 
 
 " You'll go back to saf e-blowin ', maybe?" 
 
 " No, by God I won't! When I come out of 
 prison I swore I'd turn square, and I'm 
 goin' to play it out on that string, no matter 
 what." 
 
 Tessie got slowly to her feet, and stood look- 
 ing down at her machine as if it were some 
 strange, unfamiliar thing she had never seen be- 
 fore.
 
 LIFE 179 
 
 ' ' I wish, ' ' she said after a long pause, ' ' you 
 wouldn't quit the job on my account. I couldn't 
 stand it either," she said with sudden passion, 
 " not seein' you round, and thinkin' of of what 
 might have been if " 
 
 " Tessie! " 
 
 " Besides, if you quit " her voice was 
 tremulous, but there was just the suggestion of 
 a smile about the corners of her lips " how 
 are you going to pay the rent of the flat? " 
 
 "You darling! " 
 
 He seized her in his arms just as Eeid came 
 hurriedly into the room on his way to Burnett 's 
 private office. 
 
 " Don't mind me, children. Go to it! " he 
 called with a sympathetic grin. 
 
 Tessie gave a little shriek, but stood her 
 ground bravely; while O'Brien, manlike, was 
 covered with confusion and beat a hasty re- 
 treat. 
 
 " He's a fine fellow, O'Brien," said Eeid 
 heartily. 
 
 " So he says! " said Tessie with withering 
 scorn as she looked after the retreating figure 
 of her cowardly lover. 
 
 " You mustn't be too hard on him," laughed 
 Eeid. " Has Mr. Burnett come back from 
 lunch? " 
 
 At that moment the door leading from Bur- 
 nett's private office to the outer hall slammed 
 sharply. 
 
 " "WTiat is it? Who wants me? "he snapped.
 
 180 LIFE 
 
 " Mr. Jackson told me to call your attention 
 to this, Mr. Burnett." 
 
 Eeid went over to him and handed him a slip 
 of paper. 
 
 " Well? " said Burnett, taking the paper 
 without looking at it. 
 
 " You see it's a loan of fifty thousand dollars 
 on a thousand shares of New Haven. The bank 
 called it to-day. I went to the vault to get out 
 the stock and it isn't there." 
 
 " And what business did you have to go for 
 it?" 
 
 Keid flushed under the insolence of the tone, 
 but he kept himself well in hand. 
 
 " I wanted to hand it over to you with the 
 memo." 
 
 " You did. Well, in the future, Mr. Eeid, will 
 you kindly remember that you have no business 
 in that vault in any conditions. 7 am responsi- 
 ble for the bonds and stocks kept there, and I 
 don't propose having irresponsible secretaries 
 and clerks prowling around millions of dollars' 
 worth of securities placed under my charge." 
 
 " You don't mean that " began Eeid 
 
 angrily. 
 
 " I mean that pulling stroke oar for a crew 
 doesn't necessarily make you indispensable in 
 a bank, Mr. Eeid, remember that. I have that 
 stock on my desk. Tell Mr. Jackson that I say 
 to extend the loan." 
 
 " Very well, sir," said Eeid, turning on his 
 heel.
 
 LIFE 181 
 
 " Damned young cub! " said Burnett to him- 
 self. ' ' Glad I got onto that in time. It might 
 have been serious." And he slammed the door 
 into the outer office. 
 
 " Looks like he didn't enjoy his lunch," com- 
 mented the philosophical Tessie.
 
 CHAPTER XH 
 
 THERE was nothing showy or brilliant about 
 Bill Reid. Not that he was at all stupid. He 
 was just an average sort of person mentally. 
 What he lacked in quickness, he made up in 
 clear-headedness. And he had a strong sense 
 of justice. For that reason, just because he 
 had from the first felt an instinctive distrust 
 and dislike for Tom Burnett, he would have 
 been the last person in the world to have ac- 
 cused him, even in his own mind, of anything 
 that was not perfectly straight in his conduct 
 of affairs at the bank. 
 
 All the same, every now and again little 
 things came under his notice which made him 
 vaguely uncomfortable. Each time this hap- 
 pened, he reminded himself that men, not only 
 older and wiser than he, but men who had 
 known Burnett for a number of years, had un- 
 limited confidence in him. And he would end 
 by taking himself severely to task for allowing 
 his own personal prejudice to color his judg- 
 ment. And then again something would happen, 
 and he would have to begin the old argument 
 with himself afresh. 
 
 To-day, for example, was one of these times. 
 It wasn't that Burnett's tone to him bordered 
 on the insulting. That had happened before. 
 
 182
 
 LIFE 183 
 
 That was his way of showing that Reid's dis- 
 like of him was returned, and he was small 
 enough to stoop to take every advantage of his 
 superior position. But just now he had be- 
 trayed unmistakable signs of nervousness and 
 agitation which his displeasure at hearing of 
 Reid's visit to the securities vault, even if it 
 were not largely assumed, could hardly account 
 for. Somehow, Eeid could not help connecting 
 the man's evident trouble with a scene which 
 he had witnessed earlier in the day. 
 
 For some time a little syndicate of bankers, 
 personal and business friends of Mr. Stuy- 
 vesant, had been in a pool to control Kentucky 
 Iron. For several days the market had been 
 unusually active in this particular stock. So 
 active, indeed, that there was no doubt that 
 there was an organized movement on foot to 
 wrest the control away from them. Davidson, 
 Post and Davidson were the brokers who had 
 fought them most strenuously on the floor of 
 the Stock Exchange, but who their principals 
 were was still a mystery. 
 
 That morning, all the members of the syndi- 
 cate had been closeted with Mr. Stuyvesant in 
 the directors' room of Stuyvesant and Com- 
 pany. It had been the secretary's duty to read 
 the quotations from the ticker. It was most ex- 
 citing to stand there, letting the tape run 
 through your ringers, occasionally looking up 
 to note the effect upon the keen-faced men 
 seated about the long table.
 
 184 LIFE 
 
 " Kentucky Iron 80 and %. 200 at a quar- 
 ter. 81 asked. 500 at 8181%. 200 at 82. 
 1,000 sold at the eighth. Kentucky Iron 84 and 
 
 jumping. The Bear movement is checked 
 
 Kentucky Iron still climbing at 85. ' ' 
 
 Several of the men showed the relief from 
 the strain by relaxing from their stiff attitudes. 
 Old Mr. MacLaren stretched his long legs to 
 their full length and gave a boyish laugh. 
 
 "Well, well! It was a narrow squeak, 
 though." 
 
 With general exclamations of " Good day," 
 " See you later," " I wonder how the other 
 fellows feel," and " Congratulations," they 
 separated, at Mr. Stuyvesant's suggestion, go- 
 ing out different ways. Only MacLaren lin- 
 gered until Reid followed the last man 
 out. 
 
 1 1 Want to see you a minute, ' ' he said curtly. 
 
 But he took an unconscionable long time to 
 light his cigar, while his friend waited. 
 
 " New secretary still satisfactory? " 
 
 "Best I ever had, Mac." 
 
 1 1 Good ! There 's one young man I do believe 
 in." 
 
 " You didn't stay behind the others to praise 
 my secretary." 
 
 Mr. MacLaren took from his waistcoat pocket 
 a folded piece of paper. 
 
 " Yesterday, when the fight was hottest and 
 we looked licked, this was presented to me 
 after we'd paid it."
 
 LIFE 185 
 
 He held out the piece of paper to his friend. 
 
 Mr. Stuyvesant unfolded it slowly. 
 
 " My check. For twenty thousand dollars! " 
 
 " Your private check book, mark you. Not 
 a firm check." 
 
 " What did you think? " asked the banker in 
 a low tone. 
 
 " If it had been brought to my attention be- 
 fore it was paid, I'd have stopped it and 'phoned 
 you because I thought just what I think now: 
 it's a forgery." 
 
 " Thanks, Mac." 
 
 He held out his hand, and for a moment the 
 two old friends stood with clasped hands look- 
 ing at each other in silence. Finally Mr. Stuy- 
 vesant spoke. 
 
 " Clever! A check torn out of the back of 
 my check book. And the signature wonder- 
 ful! " 
 
 " It's someone close to you, Bill." 
 
 " Come over to my office. We must get to 
 the bottom of this." 
 
 In the hall they ran into Eeid, who was on 
 his way to see Burnett about the missing New 
 Haven securities. 
 
 " Oh, Reid, just a moment. Have you had 
 any occasion to take my private check book out 
 of my desk for any reason? " 
 
 " No, sir." 
 
 " Has anyone had access to it but you? " 
 
 " Not to my knowledge, sir. Anything 
 wrong? "
 
 186 LIFE 
 
 " N-o-o. Only it was in the wrong drawer. 
 Wait a moment. * ' 
 
 He took a note book from his pocket, and 
 writing a number on one of the leaves, tore it 
 out and handed it to his secretary. 
 
 " Call this number for me. No," as Eeid 
 started to the outer office, " private. Use my 
 own telephone. And ask Mr. Anderson, the de- 
 tective, to come to see me privately at his 
 earliest convenience." 
 
 " Something is wrong, then, Mr. Stuyvesant." 
 
 " We've missed some stamps, that's all. Get 
 that number as soon as you can and let me 
 know when I may expect Anderson. After all, 
 Mac, I'll see you in your place later in the day. 
 Good-by." 
 
 When Reid tapped on his door, later, he 
 found his employer pacing the floor, looking 
 more agitated than he had ever seen him. He 
 thought it wiser to ask no further questions, 
 and, having told him that Anderson was out 
 of town for a day or two, went out quietly, 
 closing the door behind him. 
 
 Burnett, alone in his office, sat gnawing his 
 nether lip viciously. How could his well-laid 
 plans have gone amiss? Who could have be- 
 trayed him? Not Ealph unless he had let 
 something fall when he was drunk, the fool! 
 And that was hardly likely; surely he had 
 enough at stake to make him cautious even in 
 his cups. Not Davidson for he had every- 
 thing to gain and nothing to lose by attending
 
 LIFE 187 
 
 strictly to business. No, the whole thing was 
 simply inexplicable for the moment. The thing 
 to do now was not to waste time speculating 
 as to how the catastrophe had come, but to 
 take steps to retrieve their imperiled fortunes. 
 What irony that that infernal stock should be 
 wanted to-day, of all days ! 
 
 The telephone on his desk jangled loudly. 
 He snatched the receiver from the hook. 
 
 "Hello, hello! Who is it? " 
 
 " Mr. Davidson, of Davidson and Post," came 
 Tessie 's voice. 
 
 " All right. Hello, Davidson. What? Ken- 
 tucky Iron 90! Good God! What's that! Go- 
 ing up to a hundred? What? Damn it, I can't 
 hear you! You've sold twenty-five thousand 
 shares for me? I'll lose thirty dollars on 
 every share: three-quarters of a million !" he 
 groaned. 
 
 " What? I must send you more money or 
 put up more security? You'll have to sell that 
 thousand shares of New Haven? No, no, no, 
 man! You mustn't do that. No, you mustn't. 
 Now look here, Davidson, you sell me out now, 
 and by God, you'll regret it! Very well. Now 
 you're talking sense." 
 
 He hung up the receiver, and for a moment 
 paced the floor, scowling heavily. Presently 
 his face cleared. Opening the door he called to 
 Tessie : 
 
 " Tessie, if anyone wants me, I'll be down in 
 the security vault. ' '
 
 188 LIFE 
 
 And opening the door that gave on a cor- 
 ridor, he went whistling down the passage. Ten 
 minutes later he was back. He had just taken 
 a bundle from under his coat, and was locking 
 it up in a drawer of his desk, when Ralph came 
 bursting in, shaking with excitement. He 
 turned to close the door behind him, which gave 
 Burnett time to light a cigarette. He was smok- 
 ing it with the most nonchalant air in the world 
 when his quaking partner turned to confront 
 him. 
 
 11 Good God, Tom! Have you seen the 
 market! " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Last night we stood to win nearly a mil- 
 lion." 
 
 " Two million I'd figured, if everything went 
 right." 
 
 " I was happy, madly happy! I didn't go 
 home. Stayed at the flat with Grace. When 
 
 I got up at noon I read How much have 
 
 we lost! " 
 
 " Six hundred thousand up to five minutes 
 ago. Three-quarters of a million, I should 
 guess, before we're clear." 
 
 " Three-quarters of a million of the bank's 
 money? Good God, Tom, we're criminals! " 
 Ralph wrung his hands. 
 
 " What the hell did you think we were 
 angels? " sneered Burnett. 
 
 With a groan his companion sank into a chair 
 and buried his face in his hands.
 
 LIFE 189 
 
 ' ' Oh, brace up ! God hates a quitter, and so 
 does everybody else ! " 
 
 11 If they should find out. My father ! " 
 
 Burnett made a gesture of impatience. 
 " How's he going to find out? I'm in charge of 
 the security vault. Besides that, you're his son 
 and I'm going to be his son-in-law." 
 
 Ealph sprang to his feet and began to pace 
 wildly up and down the room. 
 
 ' ' Oh, why did I ever let you persuade me to 
 go into this sort of thing ! ' ' 
 
 Burnett struck his fist violently together in 
 a rage which was only partly assumed. 
 
 ' ' Why did you let yourself be persuaded ! 
 I'll tell you why. You had neither the brains 
 nor the courage to work the scheme yourself. 
 And when, long ago, you were so deep in debt 
 that you didn't know where to turn you jumped 
 at the chance when I suggested it. I admit that. 
 The idea was mine. But if you hadn't tied 
 yourself up with an expensive woman like 
 Grace, we could have followed out my original 
 plan and only taken a flyer now and again. 
 But to keep up your two establishments, we 
 have had to keep hammering at it. I tell you, 
 it is your fault. You got us into this scrape, 
 and I'm going to get us out of it. I don't 
 intend to listen to any more whining from 
 you!" 
 
 "All right, Tom, all right. I'm grateful, 
 truly I am. I know it's really my fault. If 
 only you'll "
 
 190 LIFE 
 
 " Well, I'm glad you realize that." 
 
 " Only," said Ralph, avoiding the other's 
 eye, " there's one thing more." 
 
 " Well? " 
 
 " I I well, there's a check out for twenty 
 thousand dollars that may cause trouble." 
 
 " A check for twenty thousand dollars! " 
 
 " My father's name is signed to it. I I 
 signed it." His voice was hardly more than a 
 whisper. 
 
 This time Burnett did not have to simulate 
 rage. 
 
 " You forged your father's name for twenty 
 thousand dollars! You damned, piking, little 
 fool! You took the chance " 
 
 " I was desperate, I tell you! I I'd prom- 
 ised Grace a sable coat. I I had to make 
 good." 
 
 " So you took the chance of throwing every- 
 thing over to give a sable coat to a " 
 
 " Don't say anything against her. I love 
 her." 
 
 Burnett stared at him in genuine amazement. 
 For the moment the color had returned to 
 Ralph's white face. He held his head up and 
 looked at him with shining eyes. And it was 
 Grace who had been able to rouse the only 
 spark of manhood he had seen in Ralph for 
 years. The little coward had actually sum- 
 moned up the courage to speak in her defense. 
 Truly she was a wonderful woman ! 
 There came a tap at the door.
 
 LIFE 191 
 
 " Miss Stuyvesant and Mrs. Ralph Stuy- 
 vesanl have just come," announced Tessie. 
 
 " Say we'll be right with them." 
 
 " Take hold of yourself now, Ralph, for God's 
 sake. You look as if you had slept in that 
 collar. You'll find some clean ones on the shelf 
 in my washroom. I'll tell the girls you'll be 
 right out." 
 
 He came out to them as debonnaire and smil- 
 ing as if he had not an anxiety in the world. 
 
 " Ladies," he exclaimed, as he shook hands 
 with each of them, " it is seldom that we are 
 honored by a visit from you both together. 
 Don't tell me that it means a raid on the 
 bank!" 
 
 " Nothing so desperate, I assure you," 
 smiled Ruth. " But father's been taking ad- 
 vantage of my being unusually busy to come 
 home at all hours. I intend to see that he comes 
 home early to-night." 
 
 " And Ralph's been following his bad ex- 
 ample, ' ' chimed in Anna. ' ' Where is he ? " 
 
 " He'll be right here. He had some papers 
 to sign first." 
 
 They had been chatting only a few moments 
 when Ralph appeared in the doorway, looking 
 greatly refreshed. Ruth, to whom of course 
 Anna had confided the fact that he had not been 
 home at all two nights during the week, wishing 
 to leave them alone, announced that she was 
 going in search of her father. 
 
 " Tessie," said Burnett, " I shall have some
 
 192 LIFE 
 
 dictation for you in a moment. Wait in my 
 office." And he went out into the bank. 
 
 " Ealph, dear," said Anna timidly, " you 
 weren't home last night. That's the second 
 time this week. You must be working awfully 
 hard." 
 
 " I have been very busy. But you run along. 
 I'll be home early to-night." 
 
 1 ' Very well. I think I'll wait for Euth in the 
 car." 
 
 " Why not wait here. She'll only be a min- 
 ute." 
 
 " Oh, will she! " laughed Anna. " She'll not 
 go till she has seen Bill Reid. You can be sure 
 of that. Wake up, you poor silly. One would 
 think that men hadn't eyes in their heads ! And 
 be home early." 
 
 She gave another laugh as she looked at 
 Balph's blank face. She had given him some- 
 thing to think of. 
 
 " What do you mean? " said Ealph, follow- 
 ing her out, as Euth and Burnett came in' from 
 opposite doors. 
 
 " He literally drove me out," laughed Euth, 
 pointing to her father's doo**. 
 
 " To me? " 
 
 11 You wouldn't have a girl who was driven 
 to you? " asked Euth, still laughing. 
 
 * ' Euth, dear, how much longer are you going 
 to hold me off ? "he asked, catching her hand. 
 
 Euth sobered instantly. 
 
 ' ' Please, Tom. Oh, don 't, Tom ! ' '
 
 LIFE 193 
 
 4 'Ruth, I love you!" 
 
 " I thought that was all settled, Tom. You 
 hadn't said anything since that day on the 
 river. I thought you had accepted my attitude, 
 and and understood. ' ' 
 
 " No, no! As long as you're not married to 
 any other man, as long as you're not in love 
 with anyone else, I'll never give up hope." 
 
 " But I do love someone else, Tom." 
 
 " Who? I've a right to ask that," he went 
 on, as she didn't answer. " Who is it? " 
 
 " Mr. Eeid." 
 
 " That damned " 
 
 11 Tom! " 
 
 " I don't care! I " 
 
 The door opened and Eeid came in, advanc- 
 ing with a happy smile and holding out his hand 
 to Euth. 
 
 " This is a surprise. I thought " 
 
 He stopped, looking from one to the other. 
 
 " Bill, I " began Euth. 
 
 " I beg your pardon," interrupted Burnett. 
 And making them a sweeping bow, he went back 
 to his office and closed the door. 
 
 " I told him that we were in love with each 
 other." 
 
 " I'm glad you did. I want the whole world 
 to know it. ' ' 
 
 " Oh, the whole world will know soon 
 enough. I'll keep my promise. Besides," she 
 added with feminine logic, " it's none of the 
 * whole world's ' business! "
 
 194 LIFE 
 
 " But " 
 
 " Now! " She held up a warning finger. " I 
 don't want to tell yet. It's more romantic. It's 
 so much dearer just to have it all our own 
 secret. Somehow, it seems more sacred." 
 
 " But it makes me feel sort of sneaky. To 
 go on pretending this way. If you would only 
 let me tell your father." 
 
 " Tell him I " said Ruth with withering scorn. 
 " Why, he's the last person in the world to tell. 
 He never could keep a secret in his life. That's 
 how I know the Masons haven't any. I'd have 
 known it, if they had. No, I'll not tell anybody 
 until the day after my ball. ' ' 
 
 " I wonder what they'll all say. That I'm 
 marrying you for your money, probably." 
 
 " Nonsense! " 
 
 "I'm not much of a catch, you know, for 
 Miss Ruth Stuyvesant." 
 
 " But if I think so, don't that count for some- 
 thing? " 
 
 "You darling! " 
 
 He leaned over and kissed her fondly. 
 
 ' ' And when we have our little home just big 
 enough for us and our love " Ruth went on. 
 
 " We'll never be able to afford a place big 
 enough for that. ' ' 
 
 " Dear ! " She held up her face to be kissed. 
 
 " Please don't mind me! " said Tessie, com- 
 ing out from Burnett's office with her note book 
 in her hand. She gave Reid a maliciously mis- 
 chievous look. It was her turn now.
 
 LIFE 195 
 
 " Oh! " said Ruth, starting back, her face 
 crimson. 
 
 " Oh, that's all right," said Tessie airily. 
 " Mr. Reid caught me kissing the man I'm go- 
 ing to marry, just a little while ago." 
 
 ' ' Tell me about him, ' ' said Euth, going over 
 to Tessie 's table. 
 
 " He 's got such a nice name. Dennis Dennis 
 O 'Brien. Do you know, when he asked me " 
 
 " Did he ask you if he might kiss you? " 
 
 " Ask me ! If he'd have asked I'd have killed 
 him! " 
 
 " So would I. Any girl would! " agreed 
 Ruth with spirit. 
 
 " I'll get him," said Tessie, jumping up and 
 running to the door. 
 
 " Dennis, Dennis! " she called softly, " come 
 here." 
 
 Ruth and Bill exchanged glances of amuse- 
 ment, as Tessie returned, leading her embar- 
 rassed swain by the hand. 
 
 " How are you, O'Brien? " said Ruth warmly. 
 " What's this I hear about you! " 
 
 "I'm grand, Miss Ruth, just grand," grinned 
 Dennis. 
 
 " She's engaged, too," explained Tessie. 
 
 " Are you, now! It's fine, ain't it? " 
 
 " You bet it is," said Reid. 
 
 " When are you going to be married? " asked 
 Ruth. 
 
 " Not decided," said Tessie. 
 
 " Next week," said O'Brien with emphasis.
 
 196 LIFE 
 
 " Well, I never! Do you hear the man! " 
 asked Miss Maginnis scornfully. 
 
 " Who's going to stand up with you, 
 Dennie? " 
 
 "I'd like to get a gentleman named Bill Eeid, 
 if he " 
 
 " Then I know who's going to be maid of 
 honor," interrupted Ruth. 
 
 ' You wouldn't! " Tessie threw both arms 
 round Ruth's neck and gave her a resounding 
 kiss. Immediately she was covered with con- 
 fusion at the thought of her own daring. 
 
 " There's goin' to be some class to this wed- 
 din,' " said O'Brien enthusiastically. 
 
 " O'Brien! Where's O'Brien? " called Mr. 
 Stuyvesant's voice. 
 
 " Wouldn't anybody know that the boss would 
 have to spoil the party! " asked Tessie, in an 
 aggrieved aside. 
 
 " Here I am, Mr. Stuyvesant," answered 
 'Brien as he started on a run for the door.
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 AT the doorway lie nearly collided with his 
 employer and a bull-necked, heavy-jawed man 
 of abont forty, with a stubby black mustache 
 and a pair of keen gray eyes. 
 
 " Yes, I know," he was saying, in reply to 
 something that Mr. Stuyvesant had asked, " I've 
 got a new fool to break in down at the shop. 
 He doesn't know the regular people yet, and I 
 always tell him to tell strangers that I'm out of 
 town. You never know who may be buttin' in." 
 
 ' ' Daughter, ' ' began Mr. Stuyvesant, in a wor- 
 ried manner, "I'm very busy just now, and 
 you hadn't better wait." 
 
 ' * All right, father. Oh, where is my bag ! ' ' 
 
 " Here it is, Miss Ruth," said Tessie, fetch- 
 ing it from her desk. 
 
 " O'Brien, show Mr. Anderson into my pri- 
 vate office. I'll be with you in a minute, An- 
 derson." 
 
 But neither Anderson nor 'Brien moved 
 
 " He's the detective," whispered Tessie. 
 
 * ' And what may you be doin ' below the dead 
 line! " asked Anderson with a sneer. 
 
 "I'm workin'." Dennis ran his tongue over 
 his dry lips. His voice was husky. 
 
 " Workin'? Gettin' ready for a job, you 
 mean." 
 
 197
 
 198 LIFE 
 
 " What's the matter, Anderson? This man, 
 'Brien, has been in my employ for a couple of 
 years." 
 
 " I guess then you don't know him, Mr. Stuy- 
 vesant. 'Brien is his name, all right. But his 
 moniker in the crook world is Kid Wallace, the 
 notorious bank burglar and hold-up man. He's 
 the most dangerous safe-blower in the country. 
 He's done time in Sing Sing and Dannemora. 
 A watchman in a bank ! Say, I got ter hand it to 
 you, Kid!" 
 
 " Is this true, O'Brien," demanded Mr. Stuy- 
 vesant sternly. 
 
 O'Brien drew a long breath. He had been 
 standing a shamefaced figure with bowed head. 
 But now he straightened up and looked his em- 
 ployer full in the face. There was something 
 of the light of battle in his eyes. Ruth had 
 started forward at the detective's words, but 
 Reid laid a detaining hand on her arm. She 
 nodded that she understood. Dennis should 
 have his chance to be heard. 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Stuyvesant, it is. But what he 
 don't tell you is that I switched, and for three 
 years I've been runnin' straight. Oh, you cops 
 never tell that part! " He turned fiercely on 
 Anderson, who still smiled his sneering smile. 
 11 A guy that's started wrong has a great 
 chance to run straight with you fellows at his 
 heels ! One hell of a chance ! ' ' 
 
 He took off his cap and began unbuttoning 
 his coat.
 
 LIFE 199 
 
 " What are you doing, O'Brien? Where are 
 you going? " asked Ruth, coming forward 
 quietly. 
 
 " I don't know, Miss Euth. Do you think 
 he'd leave me here? Do you think I'd stay if 
 he did? Why, the first thing that's pulled off 
 south of the dead line they'd take me and send 
 me away. I wouldn't have a chance. Just be- 
 cause I'm an ex-con. ! " 
 
 " You've got the dope all right," Anderson 
 agreed. " You come with me. I think I know 
 something you're wanted for anyhow." 
 
 At these words, Tessie, who had borne up 
 bravely until now, broke down completely, sob- 
 bing her heart out with her head on the type- 
 writer. 
 
 " Just one moment, Mr. Anderson," rang out 
 Euth's clear voice. " You are not going to take: 
 Dennis O'Brien." 
 
 " No? " Anderson was plainly amused. 
 
 "No." 
 
 "May I ask why? " 
 
 " Because I won't let you." 
 
 " And where do you come in on this? " 
 
 " My daughter " began Mr. Stuyve- 
 
 sant. 
 
 " Excuse me, Miss," said Anderson, taking 
 off his hat, " I didn't " 
 
 " I'll make myself responsible for him," 
 Euth went on. " He's been honest for three 
 years, and he's going to marry this poor little 
 girl here. She's she's a friend of mine. I
 
 200 LIFE 
 
 won 't let you spoil their happiness. You sha 'n 't 
 take him. You understand! You sha 'n't." 
 
 " But, Ruth dear," interposed her father, 
 " if O'Brien has broken the law, it's Anderson's 
 duty to take him. That's the law." 
 
 " I don't care a bit about his duty, and I don't 
 give two straws for the law. He sha 'n't take 
 him!" 
 
 " That's a woman all over for you! " said 
 Anderson disgustedly. " What do they care 
 about law, any of 'em? " 
 
 " Exactly right, Mr. Anderson. And that's 
 because there's far too much law and too little 
 justice. Do you think yourself that it's right to 
 put this man in prison when he's trying to be 
 honest! To ruin h:3 life, and the life of the 
 girl who loves him? If that's law, then the law 
 can go to the devil ! ' ' 
 
 " Ruth! " exclaimed Mr. Stuyvesant in 
 horror. 
 
 " I haven't time to argue with you, Miss 
 Stuyvesant. I 'm only paid to do my duty. And 
 my duty is to take this man, and I'm goin' to 
 do it. Come on, O'Brien! " 
 
 " Very well. But I warn you, and I warn 
 you too, father, if O'Brien is taken I will go 
 on his bail. And I'll employ the best lawyer 
 in New York to defend him. I sha 'n't stop with 
 making my fight in the courts. I'll make it in 
 the newspapers. Then we'll see how public 
 opinion judges of a man who 's trying to do right 
 and can't get a chance."
 
 LIFE 201 
 
 * t My dear, you don't know what you're say- 
 ing ! ' ' protested her father. 
 
 11 Oh, yes I do, father! And we'll have all 
 the publicity I can get, too. I'll take up a col- 
 lection myself for the O'Brien Defense Fund. 
 I'll write to the papers to-night. I'll see the 
 reporters to-morrow. Tessie and Dennis and 
 I will all have our pictures on the front pages. 
 How will you like that ! You can stop it, if you 
 will. But you must act quickly. I'm going in 
 a minute or two. And I'll begin right away on 
 my campaign unless you and Mr. Anderson 
 can arrange to leave O'Brien in freedom." 
 
 There was no doubt that she meant every 
 word she said. 
 
 " She's a Stuyvesant all over, bless her! " 
 said her father to himself. Of course she 
 should have her way. But, after all, he was a 
 little sheepish, as he turned to the waiting An- 
 derson. 
 
 11 After all, Anderson," he said, half apolo- 
 getically, " the man has been honest ever since 
 he has been here. Is it absolutely necessary 
 that you should rake up his unfortunate past? " 
 
 " Well, Mr. Stuyvesant," said Anderson, 
 scratching his head, " if you are personally in- 
 terested in the matter, I suppose I could let him 
 go during good behavior." 
 
 " I think that would be best. And, by the 
 way, I've changed my mind about seeing you 
 just now. I'll telephone you later. Perhaps 
 to-night."
 
 202 LIFE 
 
 " O. K.," said Anderson, putting on Ms hat. 
 " You can thank Miss Stuyvesant, O'Brien.'* 
 
 " Who did you think I was goin' to thank 
 you? " 
 
 "If it won't interfere with ' the right ' in 
 any way, Miss Stuyvesant," said Anderson 
 with a faint sneer, " would you mind telling 
 me why you make such a fight for a known 
 crook? " 
 
 " Certainly not, Mr. Anderson," said Euth 
 with a laugh. " I'm to be maid of honor at the 
 wedding next week. Do you suppose I'd let 
 any old law spoil that? " 
 
 " Good Lord! " said Anderson fervently. 
 And he went out shaking his head. 
 
 " Now, Kuth dear," expostulated her father, 
 " you've taken up a lot of my time, and we're 
 very busy here. ' ' 
 
 ' ' You poor man ! Never mind, I'm going this 
 second. And thank you a thousand times! * f 
 
 " Good-by, Tessie. Good-by, O'Brien." She 
 patted the still tearful Tessie on the shoulder. 
 " No, no! " as she saw Dennis, with brimming 
 eyes vainly trying to command his voice suf- 
 ficiently to put his thanks into words. ' * If you 
 want to thank me, rush that wedding ! ' ' 
 
 And followed by grateful and adoring glances, 
 she and Reid went down to the automobile and 
 the waiting Anna. 
 
 " Find Mr. Ealph Stuyvesant and Mr. Bur- 
 nett. I want to see them at once, here." Mr. 
 Stuyvesant spoke almost sharply to O'Brien-
 
 LIFE 203 
 
 " Take your things into Mr. Burnett's office, 
 Miss Maginnis. I want this room for consulta- 
 tion. Close the door after you, please." 
 
 " Well! " said the indignant Tessie to her- 
 self, " of all the grouches! As if I'd nothing 
 better to do than listen to his old consulta- 
 tions." And then recalling the part he had 
 taken in freeing her lover, she was immediately 
 overcome with remorse, and blew him a furtive 
 Mss from the doorway when she saw that his 
 back was safely turned. 
 
 Mr. Stuyvesant had been pacing the floor, up 
 and down, up and down, for nearly ten minutes 
 before Burnett and his son came. He looked 
 both tired and old. He had taxed himself more 
 than usual during the morning, and now there 
 was this new trouble to face. Tom and Ralph 
 must help him. He was determined to go 
 through with the matter of the forged 
 check to the end, let the trail lead where it 
 would. 
 
 Ralph and Tom arrived almost together. But 
 Ralph, who was a few steps in advance, had 
 caught a look on his father's face which made 
 him lose his head completely. If Burnett had 
 not followed him so closely he would have 
 broken down absolutely. 
 
 " Good God, father! You " 
 
 " Ralph," cautioned Burnett in an undertone. 
 
 " Father looks so so serious," stammered 
 Ralph. 
 
 " This is enough to make us all serious," said
 
 204 LIFE 
 
 Mr. Stuyvesant gravely, holding out the check 
 that MacLaren had given him to Burnett. 
 "Forged!" 
 
 Burnett gave a long whistle. 
 
 " But who could have done it! " 
 
 Mr. Stuyvesant shook his head. Burnett 
 handed the check over to Ralph, who stood star- 
 ing at it as if fascinated. 
 
 " Besides yourself, Mr. Stuyvesant, who is 
 there who can get at your private check book? " 
 
 " Only Reid, my secretary. But " 
 
 " How was it cashed? " 
 
 " Cashed by a messenger at MacLaren 's 
 bank." 
 
 " Can the messenger identify the man that 
 gave it to him? " 
 
 Ralph drew in his breath sharply, support- 
 ing himself by the back of a chair. 
 
 " The messenger was run over and killed an 
 hour ago, ' ' said Mr. Stuyvesant solemnly. 
 
 Ralph wiped the sweat from his forehead and 
 sank into the chair. 
 
 "I'm sorry, but it seems to me that there is 
 only one person to suspect : Reid. ' ' 
 
 " I can't believe it." 
 
 " Yes. It's Reid, it's Reid! He did it! " 
 Ralph was almost hysterical. 
 
 Mr. Stuyvesant crossed the room to the bell. 
 
 "I'm going to call Reid and question him. 
 But I believe he's perfectly honest." 
 
 For a moment the silence was unbroken. Mr. 
 Stuyvesant continued to pace the floor, while
 
 LIFE 205 
 
 Ralph, warned by Burnett's scowl, fought to 
 regain his self-control. 
 
 " Did you want to see me, Mr. Stuyvesant? " 
 
 As he stood in the doorway Mr. Stuyvesant 
 thought that he had never seen a finer or man- 
 lier figure or a more open, candid face. Some- 
 how, the sight gave him fresh courage. The 
 man never in the world was guilty. No thief, 
 since the world began, ever wore that honest 
 look. Unless he were to confess it himself, he 
 never would believe that Bill Reid was the 
 forger. 
 
 * * Sit down, will you, Mr. Eeid. I wanted to 
 ask you if you knew anything about this." 
 
 He handed him the check, and stood waiting. 
 Reid scrutinized it closely, turned over and 
 looked for the indorsement, and handed it back, 
 shaking his head. 
 
 " No, sir. Only " 
 
 " Only what? " 
 
 " Only this check is numbered 1,169. And 
 the last one made out from your check 
 book was 1,068: a jump of a hundred num- 
 bers." 
 
 " Exactly. And the signature and indorse- 
 ment are both forged. ' ' 
 
 "Forged!" 
 
 " Now, Reid, who has had that book besides 
 yourself? " 
 
 " Good God, Mr. Stuyvesant! You don't 
 think " 
 
 " It isn't what I think. The crime has been
 
 206 LIFE 
 
 committed, and we must get to the bottom of 
 it." 
 
 ' ' I hope we may. I'll do my best to help. ' ' 
 
 " That's very kind of you, I'm sure," said 
 Burnett with an evil sneer. " You could help 
 us a lot if you began by telling us what you did 
 with the money." 
 
 " Yes ! What did you do with it? What did 
 you do with it? " 
 
 Ealph sprang from his chair and rushed over 
 to Reid with clenched fist. If Burnett had not 
 restrained him, he might actually have struck 
 him in his frenzy. 
 
 " Now then, you damned thief, come through 
 and tell the truth! " 
 
 " I'll call the police, Mr. Stuyvesant," said 
 Burnett briskly, on his way to the door. 
 
 " Wait! " Mr. Stuyvesant stopped him with 
 a gesture. 
 
 " Do you think I forged that check? " said 
 Reid to Mr. Stuyvesant. His quiet manner 
 contrasted sharply with that of his two ac- 
 cusers. 
 
 " I know you did," called Burnett from the 
 door. 
 
 " We've got proof of it," blustered Ralph. 
 
 " I am waiting, Mr. Stuyvesant," said Reid, 
 ignoring the others. " Do you think that I'm a 
 thief? " 
 
 "No, Reid, I don't!" 
 
 " Thank you, sir." 
 
 He sprang suddenly to his feet and turned on
 
 LIFE 207 
 
 Burnett and the cowering Ralph. ' * As for you 
 two you can go to hell, both of you ! ' ' 
 
 Burnett was the first to recover himself. 
 
 " Very well, Mr. Keid. But I don't think 
 you'll find others so ready to take your unsup- 
 ported word as Mr. Stuyvesant. This matter 
 doesn't drop here. And let me add that the 
 man who would steal into his employer's house 
 and try to win the love of his daughter behind 
 his back when she is as good as engaged to an- 
 other man isn't above other things even more 
 dishonest." 
 
 "What is this? " 
 
 Mr. Stuyvesant stood staring from Reid to 
 Burnett and back again at Reid. 
 
 " Mr. Stuyvesant, I had given my word 
 to " 
 
 " If you are about to speak of my daughter, 
 Mr. Reid, I've only one word to say: don't! " 
 
 " I have caught you also, Mr. Reid, hanging 
 about the securities vault. I shall start an in- 
 vestigation immediately to see if any of them 
 happen to be missing, too." 
 
 It was of course Burnett who spoke. 
 
 " If any securities are gone, I know who took 
 them and so do you and your brokers." 
 
 "You lying thief! " 
 
 For once in his life Burnett lost his head. He 
 made a rush for his enemy, his clenched fist 
 upraised. The next second he was picking him- 
 self up from the floor, holding his handkerchief 
 to his bleeding lip.
 
 208 LIFE 
 
 " Reid! What are you doing! " 
 
 "I'm sorry, Mr. Stuyvesant. I just couldn't 
 help it." 
 
 " I demand that man's arrest," snarled 
 Burnett. 
 
 " Wait, I tell you. I believe I am still the 
 head of Stuyvesant and Company, Mr. Burnett. 
 I am going to get to the bottom of this, but in 
 my own time, and in my own way. ' ' 
 
 " He goes, or I go." Here, at least, Burnett 
 was sure of his ground. 
 
 For an instant Mr. Stuyvesant hesitated. 
 "I'm sorry, Reid," he said with real feeling. 
 " I believe you are honest. But Mr. Burnett, 
 here, is my junior partner, my son-in-law to 
 be ' ' here he froze again at the recollection of 
 what Burnett had revealed. " I must, there- 
 fore, ask for your resignation, and I am sorry 
 to add that in the future you will not be wel- 
 come either here or at my home." 
 
 With a gesture which was plainly one of dis- 
 missal, the old gentleman turned and went 
 slowly into his private room. 
 
 Without deigning to look in the direction of 
 the other men, Bill Reid went out to the cloak 
 room, and getting his hat and coat, went down 
 the steps of Stuyvesant and Company for the 
 last time. 
 
 He dined that night in a quiet little restaurant 
 where the food was notably good and well pre- 
 pared. He even treated himself to a better 
 dinner than he usually thought he could afford;
 
 LIFE 209 
 
 smiling as he gave the order at the thought that 
 most people would have considered that a young 
 man who had just lost his position and might 
 find it difficult to get another, being, as he was, 
 without a character, would naturally judge this 
 a most appropriate time to practice the virtue 
 of economy. But for some reason or other 
 he was ravenously hungry. Possibly a reaction 
 from the unusual strain he had been under the 
 last hours of the day. 
 
 He had gone directly home after leaving the 
 bank. Once in his room, he had closed the old- 
 fashioned shutters so as to darken the room 
 as much as possible. For an hour or more he 
 lay prone on his bed with his eyes closed, going 
 over the whole situation again and again. 
 
 It has been said that his was not a particularly 
 quick mind. No one was more fully aware of 
 this than Eeid himself. Therefore, when he had 
 as knotty a problem as this one to solve, he pur- 
 posed taking his time to it. He was happily 
 the possessor of a strong will, and early in life 
 he had learned the lesson of self-control. He 
 had had his moment of natural weakness that 
 afternoon when he had allowed his temper to 
 get the best of him and had knocked Burnett 
 across the table. But it should not happen 
 again. He would not permit his resentment of 
 injustice to interfere with his judgment. 
 
 When he finally got up at dinner time, he had 
 weighed all the evidence in his position and de- 
 cided on his course of action. Like Burnett, he
 
 210 LIFE 
 
 had no intention of letting the matter drop. 
 But he must see and consult with Euth. As 
 Mr. Stuyvesant had been unfair enough to for- 
 bid him the house without waiting for his ex- 
 planation, he considered himself under no obli- 
 gation not to see Euth as soon and as often as 
 possible. 
 
 He dismissed the idea of writing to her. In 
 his present mood, her father was quite capable 
 of seeing that his letters were not delivered. 
 Of course he was perfectly familiar with his 
 former secretary's writing. And then the idea 
 of appealing to Jennie Bruce had come to him. 
 She was Euth's closest friend and was without 
 doubt more or less in her confidence. And 
 Jennie had a remarkable faculty for making 
 four out of two and two. Besides, Eeid himself 
 liked and trusted her and felt that his lik- 
 ing was returned. Jennie, then, should help 
 him. 
 
 He found by telephoning her that she was 
 disengaged for the evening. Having loitered 
 over his coffee until it was within a half-hour 
 of the time she had suggested that her father 
 would have started for his club, he paid his 
 check and walked briskly to the house, which 
 was only a short distance away. 
 
 He found Jennie in a small room at the back 
 of the house, which she had fitted up for her 
 own particular snuggery. Here she received her 
 more intimate friends, making the men feel per- 
 fectly at home by permitting them to smoke their
 
 LIFE 211 
 
 pet pipes while she, of course, munched choco- 
 lates. Standing in front of the fire for the au- 
 tumn evening was sufficiently chill to give an 
 excuse for such luxuries looking down from his 
 great height at Jennie curled up on a divan with 
 the inevitable box of her favorite article of diet, 
 he told his story slowly and carefully, omitting 
 no detail which seemed to him to throw any light 
 on the mystery. 
 
 Jennie listened with sympathy and intelli- 
 gence. From time to time a shrewd little smile 
 flitted across her handsome face, but she only 
 interrupted to ask some pertinent question or 
 to make some comment remarkable for its keen- 
 ness. 
 
 When he had finished with his appeal to her 
 to help him to see Euth, she rose slowly and 
 stood for a moment looking down into the glow- 
 ing bed of coals. 
 
 " You haven't said whom you believed to be 
 at the bottom of all this. You needn't. I know 
 who is in your mind, and I agree with you. I 
 am one of the few persons who has always dis- 
 trusted him. I am only surprised that he has 
 waited so long. You are very much in the way, 
 you know. Now I want to think it over a little 
 by myself. So I am going to send you home. 
 Euth, as it happens, is lunching here with me 
 to-morrow. If you were to come around about 
 two you can talk to her without being inter- 
 rupted." 
 
 tf Jennie, you're the best friend in the world.
 
 212 LIFE 
 
 I'll never forget what you're doing for me as 
 long as I live! " 
 
 "No," said Jennie, " I don't think you're the 
 kind that will, ' ' and she smiled up at him with 
 her frank, boyish smile. 
 
 * ' I think it would be wiser to let me tell Ruth 
 the whole story before you come," she said as 
 they stood at the door. " You see I'm sure her 
 father will put off saying anything as long as 
 possible. Poor soul ! He will dread so to give 
 her pain. And the more quickly you act, the 
 better. And if she knows all about it before you 
 come, there is so much gained. ' ' 
 
 ' ' I leave it entirely to you. There is no onei 
 in whose judgment I have more confidence, be- 
 lieve me." 
 
 Euth was alone in the same little room when 
 he came next day. She had utterly given way 
 when she first saw him and had broken down and 
 cried with her head on his shoulder, his strong 
 arms about her. But after a few minutes she 
 had regained her self-control. 
 
 " I didn't mean to make such a little fool of 
 myself. But don 't think I am crying from any- 
 thing but pure rage. You ought to have seen 
 me when Jennie told me! I nearly frightened 
 her, and she's known me and my temper for 
 years. To think that it is Tom that accuses 
 you! Ralph doesn't count. He thinks whatever 
 Tom thinks. I wouldn't have believed it of him. 
 And then his telling our secret to father. Of 
 course he knew it was a secret. He couldn't
 
 LIFE 213 
 
 help knowing it. Now there's only one thing 
 to be done. Jennie agrees with me, and she's 
 the wisest woman I know. I don't want to tell 
 you until I have all the plan arranged in my 
 mind. I'll write you to-night. And you must 
 do exactly as I tell you. Everything depends 
 upon it. And father will be the first to acknowl- 
 edge that he has been unjust. Poor man ! He 
 was so unhappy last night. But even I couldn't 
 get a thing out of him. 
 
 " I must go now. I have an engagement I 
 simply must keep. You'll have my letter the 
 first thing in the morning. Promise me that 
 you'll do exactly as I tell you." 
 
 " But why all this mystery! " 
 
 " Oh, never mind that. One would think you 
 didn't trust me. But you promise? " 
 
 " Surely, sweetheart." 
 
 For a short moment he held her again in his 
 arms. Then he took her out to the waiting 
 automobile.
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 NEW YORK was in the first throes of the 
 dance craze. Dancing had become more than 
 a "rage," it was an epidemic. All the world 
 and his wife, irrespective of age or size, danced 
 morning, noon and night; weekdays and Sun- 
 days. Restaurants and cafes that had been on 
 the point of closing their doors for lack of 
 trade hired a professional dancer, or dancers, 
 advertised their tango teas, and sat com- 
 placently down to gather in the golden harvest 
 with both hands. 
 
 Teachers of the new art sprang up overnight 
 on every block. And still New York danced. 
 Physicians uttered cautious words of warning 
 against excess. The church fulminated against 
 Sabbath-breaking. And still New York danced. 
 
 Presently the craze spread from Fifth 
 Avenue and Broadway to the dance halls of the 
 lower East Side. The underworld took it up, 
 and danced as hard as their betters. It was 
 not long before some of the denizens of the 
 lowest of these dives asked themselves why 
 they too should not glean after the reapers fur- 
 ther uptown. Nimble feet and quick wits were 
 all that were required in the way of testi- 
 monials. 
 
 It was the afternoon of the day of the long- 
 
 214
 
 LIFE 215 
 
 heralded Stuyvesant Ball at which the young 
 heiress was to make her bow to society. For 
 weeks paragraphs expatiating on the splendor 
 of the coming entertainment went the rounds 
 of the society columns. There were hints of a 
 closely guarded surprise to be disclosed only 
 on that eventful evening. This latter item gave 
 much amusement to three people; that is to 
 say, to Ruth, to Jennie Bruce, who was now 
 completely in her confidence, and to Mr. Wil- 
 liam Reid, late secretary to the host of the oc- 
 casion. 
 
 As a matter of fact, the "surprise" at which 
 the papers hinted was a much simpler one than 
 the real thing planned by the conspirators. 
 Ruth had decided to engage the dancer Henri, 
 of the Cafe Terpsichore, to give an exhibition 
 with his partner for the entertainment of her 
 guests. The only cloud on her anticipated 
 pleasure was the reluctance of her sweetheart 
 to accept the invitation which he could not help 
 but know had been most unwillingly given by 
 her father. 
 
 Mr. Stuyvesant was still unconvinced of 
 Reid's guilt in the matter of the forged check, 
 but he was by no means satisfied that Burnett's 
 other charge was not well founded. It was not 
 that, all things being equal, he would not have 
 welcomed as a son-in-law this manly young fel- 
 low who had already made himself respected 
 and liked by his associates, Ralph and Tom 
 excepted, but that he cordially detested any-
 
 216 LIFE 
 
 thing that savored of the underhanded. And 
 if Eeid had been making love to his daughter 
 and he began to believe that he had been he 
 had not " played the game according to the 
 rules." 
 
 All of which was very true, and it must be 
 admitted that Mr. Stuyvesant was not without 
 justification. Only he did not know certain cir- 
 cumstances, which would have greatly modified 
 his judgment. 
 
 So, although it hurt his pride, Eeid was to 
 be one of the guests. Both Ealph and Burnett 
 had been informed of his coming by Euth her- 
 self. And she had given them both to under- 
 stand that, whatever ill feeling existed between 
 them and her guest over business affairs, she 
 would personally resent any lack of courtesy 
 shown to him on the night of her ball. 
 
 Greatly against her inclination Euth had con- 
 sented to go down to the Cafe Terpsichore the 
 latter part of the afternoon to see Henri try 
 out the dance he was to do for her that evening. 
 At the last moment she would have gladly sent 
 word that she could not come. She could, with 
 perfect truth, have pleaded fatigue as an excuse. 
 She had been under an unusual strain the past 
 few days, what with her worry over her lover's 
 troubles, her anxiety about her father, who did 
 not seem at all himself, and a natural nervous- 
 ness connected with her first great entertain- 
 ment and the effect that the revealing of her 
 secret would have upon all concerned.
 
 LIFE 217 
 
 But she had arranged the day before that 
 Anna and Jennie Bruce should go down with 
 her and that Bill should be there to meet them. 
 In the end it seemed less trouble to go than to 
 change her arrangements. 
 
 And so it happened that, all unconsciously, 
 she prepared the way for the first of that series 
 of calamities which was to come near to shatter- 
 ing the happiness of her whole life ! 
 
 For Anna had happened to mention to Ralph 
 that she was going with Ruth to see Henri 
 dance. Ralph, in turn, had told Burnett. And 
 Burnett 's quick brain had seen in this conjunc- 
 tion of circumstances an opportunity to strike 
 his enemy too good to be neglected. Ralph, as 
 usual, had been his ready tool. 
 
 It was still a little early for the habitues of 
 the Cafe Terpsichore, although a few tables 
 here and there were already occupied by those 
 who came to watch the dancing, when a man 
 whose general appearance and manner sug- 
 gested that he would have been more at home 
 in a less pretentious resort swaggered in and 
 seated himself at a table. 
 
 His air was at once furtive and defiant. It 
 said as plainly as words : you may think I have 
 no right here; well, I challenge you to prove 
 that I have not. His eyes were bold and keen, 
 the eyes of a man who knows how to make 
 himself obeyed through fear. And yet he was 
 no stranger to fear himself. Always he was 
 on his guard. His face showed both humor
 
 218 LIFE 
 
 and cunning. He was well and strongly made 
 and Ms fine forehead, surmounted by a shock 
 of curly hair, indicated more than average intel- 
 ligence. 
 
 He was badly dressed. His clothes were not 
 exactly loud in pattern and not exactly ill cut. 
 They suggested, rather, the provincial tailor 
 with ideas! Every article of his apparel 
 shrieked of newness. His hat, his gloves, his 
 shoes, his topcoat, his suit all had the look 
 of never having been worn before. 
 
 He had already been seated at the table some 
 minutes and still none of the waiters showed 
 any sign of being aware of his presence. He 
 showed his appreciation of their motives in a 
 broad grin. When their impudent neglect no 
 longer amused him, he beckoned the nearest with 
 an imperious gesture. 
 
 "Somethin' to drink and somethin' to eat." 
 
 "Beer and sandwiches'?" questioned the 
 waiter with thinly veiled contempt. 
 
 "No. Champagne and duck." 
 
 Instantly the waiter's manner changed. He 
 bustled and fussed over the table for a mo- 
 ment and then hurried off. 
 
 The man drew a folded newspaper from his 
 pocket and with manifest amusement read and 
 reread a marked paragraph. At this moment 
 Ealph and Tom, obsequiously received by the 
 head waiter, were conducted to a large table in 
 the center of the room. The man beckoned to 
 another waiter.
 
 LIFE 219 
 
 "I've heard out West about these here 
 tango dances. They say you've got the best 
 one in town." 
 
 ' ' Oh, yes, sir. We have Henri. ' ' 
 
 "Trot him out. Show him to me." 
 
 "He is not here yet. He will come later." 
 
 "Oh! I see by this paper that he dances 
 to-night at the Stuyvesant Ball." 
 
 "Henri dances at all the smart balls, sir." 
 
 "Well, when he comes in, show him to me. 
 I want to see him, so that I can tell the folks 
 at home." 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "I don't like your scheme, Tom; I don't see 
 what good it will do," Ealph was saying. 
 
 "Can't you understand? When things are 
 coming your way, play big. If we haven't con- 
 vinced your father that Reid's a crook, at least 
 we've queered him. Now, kill him with Ruth. 
 Have you the invitation ? ' ' 
 
 "Here." He held out an envelope contain- 
 ing the card. 
 
 " 'Mr. William Van Rennsselaer Stuyvesant 
 requests the honor of Miss Muriel Barresford's 
 presence,' etc., etc., etc.," read Burnett in a low 
 tone. "Good! The 'Miss Muriel Barresford' 
 is another example of your penmanship, I sup- 
 pose." 
 
 Ralph nodded. "Copied it from a note of 
 Reid's. But I don't see how that is going to 
 do the trick." 
 
 "You leave the details to me and Grace.
 
 220 LIFE 
 
 She hates him almost as much as we do. Here 
 she is!" 
 
 Grace swept toward them, beautifully 
 dressed, as always. Her furs the sables which 
 had been Ralph's undoing were magnificent. 
 She was evidently in one of her worst moods. 
 Her face was hard, and there was a glitter in 
 her eyes which to those weatherwise in "Miss 
 Barresford's" moods suggested the coming 
 storm. Her greeting to the two men who rose 
 to receive her bordered on the curt. 
 
 Her appearance greatly interested the man 
 at the other table. 
 
 "Waiter!" 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "Who's the dame?" 
 
 "I do not know, sir." 
 
 1 ' Some dame ! Who 's the poppa ? ' ' 
 
 "Poppa, poppa? I do not understand, sir." 
 
 "The little guy that's eatin' her alive with 
 his eyes." 
 
 "Mr. Ealph Stuyvesant, sir." 
 
 "Oh! And the big guy she's stuck on?" 
 
 "Mr. Thomas Burnett." 
 
 "Well, I'm here," said Grace sullenly. 
 "What more do you want?" 
 
 At that moment a medium-sized, dapper 
 young man, with a pale, puffy face and mean, 
 shifting, ratlike eyes, came into the room. His 
 black hair was thick with pomade. His clothes 
 were in the extreme of fashion. He reeked of 
 perfume.
 
 LIFE 221 
 
 "Mr. Stuyvesant," he said, making a low 
 bow to Ralph. 
 
 "Hello, Henri. Burnett, this is Henri, the 
 dancer. You dance at my father's to-night, I 
 believe I ' ' 
 
 "Yes, Mr. Stuyvesant. Miss Stuyvesant is 
 my very best pupil. ' ' 
 
 "Good. Mrs. Stuyvesant says she is learn- 
 ing." 
 
 "Mrs. Stuyvesant is also a fine dancer." 
 
 He gave a little side glance at Grace, and 
 then looked again at Ealph. 
 
 " Mrs. Stuyvesant and Miss Stuyvesant are 
 coming here to see me try out my new dance. 
 They should be here shortly. ' ' 
 
 "Yes, I know," said Ralph coldly. 
 
 With another bow Henri disappeared through 
 a door at the far end of the restaurant. 
 
 "The little shrimp!" said Grace angrily. 
 "He was trying to warn you. You'd better 
 go." 
 
 "I'll be up for dinner, dear," he said as he 
 rose. 
 
 ' ' We '11 dine early, ' ' she said coldly. < ' I shall 
 want to lie down for an hour or two." 
 
 "Where's the invitation?" she asked 
 abruptly, holding out her hand to Burnett, who 
 handed it to her in silence. 
 
 " 'The honor of Miss Muriel Barresford's 
 presence,' " she read with a curling lip. "I'll 
 honor them all right. I'll wake up their party. 
 You should see my gown!"
 
 222 LIFE 
 
 "Now listen," said Burnett, covering her 
 hand with his, "I'm going. Reid is coming 
 here to meet Ruth. Let her find you two hav- 
 ing a confidential chat. You know what I 
 mean." 
 
 "I suppose you love me just as much as 
 ever. ' ' 
 
 "Of course, my dear! You don't doubt 
 that." 
 
 "No, I don't doubt that you love me as much 
 as ever since you have never really loved me 
 at all!" 
 
 So! She was in one of her old jealous 
 moods. 
 
 "I see. You're not going to help me, after 
 all." 
 
 "Oh, I'll help you to the limit ! But not be- 
 cause I believe you love me, but because I hate 
 her. I hate her for being rich, for being charm- 
 ing, for being good! For having everything I 
 haven't! For being everything I'm not! But 
 I hate her most of all because of you! She's 
 made me suffer. She shall have her turn at 
 suffering. Trust me ! ' ' 
 
 She spoke in a tone of intense bitterness. 
 Burnett stood looking down at her. For the 
 moment there was not even a trace of beauty 
 in her face. She looked haggard and worn, 
 even old. Then, with one of those sudden 
 transitions so characteristic of her, all light and 
 color and softness came back. Her eyes lost 
 their hard glitter. Her lovely mouth curved
 
 LIFE 223 
 
 in an enchanting smile. She gave her face a 
 little caressing pat with her handkerchief. 
 
 "Order me a brandy and soda," she said. 
 "I hate it, but it's in character. How do I 
 look?" 
 
 Burnett laughed aloud in sheer relief, and 
 turned to give the waiter the order. 
 
 "I won't tell you," he smiled. "You don't 
 deserve it ! " 
 
 As he was going out he met Henri return- 
 ing. 
 
 "Miss Barresford, over at the table yonder, 
 wants to speak to you, I think'." 
 
 "Listen, Henri," said Grace imperiously as 
 Henri took Ralph's chair, "if you do as I tell 
 you there 's a hundred dollars in your pocket. ' ' 
 And she leaned over and began talking to him 
 in so low a tone that the waiter gave up trying 
 to overhear her. 
 
 The man at the other table had been giving 
 a whole-souled attention to his repast, which 
 did not prevent him, however, from seeing 
 everything that went on about him. 
 
 "Waiter!" he called. 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "Is that your Henry?" 
 
 "Yes, sir; that is Monsieur Henri." 
 
 "Go over and tell him I want to see 
 him." 
 
 The waiter hesitated a moment, but his cus- 
 tomer gave him a look that assisted him greatly 
 to make up his mind.
 
 224 LIFE 
 
 "The gentleman over there wants to see 
 you, Monsieur," he whispered in Henri's ear. 
 
 "Tell him I'm engaged," said Henri without 
 looking up. 
 
 "Monsieur Henri is engaged, sir." 
 
 "Go back and tell him he'll be worse engaged 
 if he don't come, and come quick. Well?" 
 
 The waiter hurried away. 
 
 "The gentleman says it's most urgent." 
 
 "Damn his impertinence! Watch me settle 
 him," swaggered Henri. 
 
 He crossed swiftly to the other table. 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 "Sit down, you rat!" The man at the other 
 table didn't even look up. 
 
 With a gasp of amazement and fear, Henri 
 obeyed. 
 
 1 1 Joe Schmidt ! Dutch Joe ! ' ' 
 
 "I see you ain't forgotten me," said Joe 
 with a grin. 
 
 "I guess nobody wise will ever forget Dutch 
 Joe or Kid Wallace. Guys like you two ain't 
 forgot!" 
 
 "That's one thing I come East for. Where 
 wtheMd!" 
 
 1 ' Dropped out. Nobody knows. ' ' 
 
 "Who let you off the Bowery?" asked Joe 
 after a moment. 
 
 "Ain't this a free country? Ain't a fellow 
 got a right to rise in the world?" 
 
 The dancer was beginning to recover his 
 nerve a little.
 
 LIFE 225 
 
 "Huh! Quitting pickin' pockets, eh? 
 Where's all the girls that you used to have 
 workin' for you?" 
 
 "Cut it, Dutch, cut it! Somebody might hear 
 you. I reformed. ' ' 
 
 "Dago Mike reformed!" laughed Joe. 
 "That's a good one!" 
 
 "I'm givin' it to you straight," said the 
 dancer eagerly. "You know me. I was always 
 some dancer. Used to cop my girls that way, 
 in the dance halls on the East Side and on 
 Fourteenth Street, and put 'em to work for me. 
 Nothin' much in it, and I had to work the Sub- 
 way and the crosstown cars on the side. Too 
 hard ! I got wise. Slicked down my hair, pol- 
 ished my finger nails and moved uptown. Oh, 
 I ain't the only one. Say, I'll take you to any 
 popular dansant place in New York, and if I 
 can't show you some guy like me out of the 
 East Side dance halls with a prison record in 
 any one of 'em, I'll buy the swellest feed in 
 town!" 
 
 He talked rapidly with a nervous eagerness 
 which betrayed his deadly fear of the man op- 
 posite him. Dutch Joe dropped his eyes to hide 
 the amusement that gleamed in them. He had 
 the catlike love of playing with his victim. 
 
 "So! You've quit the old game for good?" 
 
 "Sure. What's the use? Why, croakin' a 
 guy in New York was never worth more than 
 fifty iron men. Now, the swellest chicken on. 
 the Avenoo, debutant stuff, pays me twenty-
 
 226 LIFE 
 
 five dollars an hour just to hug her. I tell you 
 it's great! Henri, the Tango King that's 
 me!" 
 
 1 'Twenty-five an hour!" exclaimed Joe in 
 pretended incredulity. "Forget it!" 
 
 "No, on the level. Why, I get two hundred 
 bucks to-night just for dancing at a ball. A 
 swell little dame, too, Miss Stuyvesant. Her 
 old man ain't nothin'. Only the boss of Stuy- 
 vesant and Company. Got all the money in the 
 world this side of Hoboken. And the house 
 they live in ! And the silver stuff in the dinin '- 
 room! And the jewels the little dame's 
 got!" 
 
 Words failed him. 
 
 "Swell, is it?" 
 
 ' ' Swell ! Say, Bo, it 's a plush-hung morgue ! ' ' 
 
 "Yes," said Joe carelessly, "I seen in the 
 paper you was dancin' there. That's why I 
 come to pay my respec's this afternoon." 
 
 "W-w-what is it?" stammered the dancer. 
 All his fear had returned. 
 
 "I got a job for you." 
 
 "Nothin' doin', Dutch, nothin' doin'! I teU 
 you I've quit all that." 
 
 Joe gave him a contemptuous look. 
 
 "You meet me to-night at 8:15 in front of 
 Childs' on Fourteenth Street," he said sav- 
 agely. 
 
 I - " 
 
 Joe bared his teeth in a grin. His thin hand, 
 with its long, nervous fingers, opened and closed
 
 LIFE 227 
 
 with a catlike movement. He spoke in a low, 
 smooth tone, but to the little wretch opposite 
 him every word was charged with deadly 
 meaning. 
 
 * ' Some stool tipped off the bulls on Kid Wal- 
 lace and got him a six-year stretch. I never 
 was sure it was you that's why you're still 
 alive. But I guess if you want to keep in good 
 health you'd better be there. Make it eight 
 o'clock, that'll be better. You get me? " 
 
 "I'll be there," said Dago Mike in a choked 
 voice. 
 
 "Here, you!" called Joe, as he rose briskly 
 from his chair. 
 
 The waiter came hurrying forward. 
 
 "This is Henry's party. He'll pay the 
 check." 
 
 Henri nodded sullenly. 
 
 "Remember, eight o'clock," he said sharply. 
 "S'long!" 
 
 As he went out of the cafe with his long 
 stride, he grinned impudently at Grace as he 
 passed her table, chuckling to himself at the 
 furious glance she gave him in return. 
 
 "Has Miss Stuyvesant come?" asked a well- 
 remembered voice back of her. She sprang 
 from her chair, her face beaming a wel- 
 come. 
 
 "Why, Bill Reid!" And then, in pretty con- 
 fusion: "I beg your pardon, Mr. Reid. How 
 are you? Oh, I'm so glad to see you!" 
 
 "How how are you?" His blank look be-
 
 228 LIFE 
 
 trayed the fact that he hadn't the remotest rec- 
 ollection of ever having seen her before. 
 
 "You don't remember me, Mr. Reid?" 
 
 "Sorry to be so stupid! But " j 
 
 "Think a minute," she insisted archly. 
 "You last saw me at New Haven." 
 
 "Why, you're not " 
 
 "Exactly! Grace Andrews. Won't you sit 
 down a moment?" 
 
 "Thanks, but I'm looking for some friends," 
 he said stiffly. 
 
 There could be only one explanation of Tom 
 Andrews' daughter being so richly dressed. 
 He thought of her honest old father and mother 
 with a sudden pity. 
 
 "There's no one here yet," she assured him. 
 "I've just been in the other rooms. Can't you 
 sit down just a minute? You don't know how 
 you make me think of of home!" Her voice 
 broke a little on the word. "Oh, I know the 
 thought in your mind." 
 
 At once his heart was touched. Heavens! 
 Who was he that he should judge her? Surely, 
 of all the men in the world, he was the last 
 that should condemn anyone on appearances! 
 He had suffered enough from that sort of judg- 
 ment himself! 
 
 "Why, certainly. I shall be glad to." 
 
 He took the nearest chair, which happened to 
 place him with his back to the door. 
 
 She had been chatting on aimlessly to gain 
 time for a minute or two, while he listened with
 
 LIFE 229 
 
 the polite attention which he always gave to 
 every woman, when she saw Ruth, Anna and 
 Jennie Bruce coming in with Tom. 
 
 "Look at Mr. Reid with that perfectly stun- 
 ning woman! " exclaimed Anna. "Who is 
 she? " 
 
 That was Grace's cue. To Reid's astonish- 
 ment she suddenly leaned across the table and 
 seized his hand. 
 
 "You've been so dear!" she raised her 
 voice so that every word could be distinctly 
 heard all over the room "I'm so grateful for 
 all you have done for me have given me! 
 You've always been such a true friend!" 
 
 Had she suddenly lost her mind or had he? 
 
 And then he heard Burnett's voice say: 
 
 "Who is she? Why, she's one of the most 
 notorious women in New York!" 
 
 He sprang to his feet in confusion and amaze- 
 ment, to meet Ruth's blazing eyes. 
 
 '.'Ruth! Ruth, my darling! It's all some 
 hideous mistake!" 
 
 But with her head proudly high, without so 
 much as a glance in his direction, Ruth swept 
 out of the door, followed by her friends.
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 IT was nearly midnight. Ontside the Stuy- 
 vesant house, blazing with light, Dutch Joe, clad 
 in a pair of black dress trousers, a sweater 
 under a shabby brown coat and a greasy old cap 
 well pulled down over his eyes, stamped his feet 
 and cursed under his breath. From time to 
 time he shifted a small parcel which he carried 
 from one arm to the other in order to rub his 
 cold hands. For professional reasons he was 
 not wearing his overcoat, not wishing to be en- 
 cumbered with any useless clothing. 
 
 He had already been there some time, vary- 
 ing the monotony of his vigil with strolls around 
 the block whenever a watchman or a policeman 
 appeared in the distance. 
 
 "I wish the hell I knew what time it was! 
 Careless of me to leave me diamond-studded 
 watch on the piany. It can't be that that 
 
 damned little skunk No fear! I put the 
 
 fear of God too well in his heart, down there 
 in front of ChildsV 
 
 From which muttered observation it was to 
 be inferred that "Monsieur Henri" had been 
 faithful to his appointment. 
 
 Inside the house they had just finished doing 
 the "Paul Jones." Ruth, quite breathless, was 
 fanning herself, in one of the great windows of 
 
 230
 
 LIFE 231 
 
 the library the whole lower floor, with the ex- 
 ception of the dining-room, had been turned into 
 one huge ballroom when Jennie Bruce, sup- 
 porting herself, figuratively speaking, on the 
 arm of little Jimmie Jones, joined her and her 
 partner. 
 
 1 1 Having a good time, Jennie ? ' ' 
 
 "Gorgeous! I've lost seven ounces. I 
 weighed myself in your bathroom, half an hour 
 ago. If I don't eat any supper I'll go home 
 a pound lighter. ' ' 
 
 "But you're going to eat supper." 
 
 "Yes, I know I am." 
 
 "How are you, Jimmy f" 
 
 "G-g-g-great!" 
 
 "Yes, he's having a good time," confirmed 
 Jennie. "Only his mind is on his feet, and he 
 can't talk." 
 
 ' ' 'Tis 'tis 'tisn't my m-m-mind on m-m-my 
 f-feet that hurts. You s-s-stepped on them." 
 
 On the other side of the room Ralph and Bur- 
 nett met for the first time during the evening. 
 
 "What did she do this afternoon?" asked 
 Ralph hurriedly. 
 
 "She was furious! Haven't you noticed she 
 hasn't danced with him once?" 
 
 "Good!" 
 
 "Beg pardon, Miss Stuyvesant," said a 
 servant at Ruth's elbow, "but Monsieur Henri, 
 the dancer, would like to speak with you." 
 
 "Where is he?" 
 
 "He is waiting, Miss, at the door. He didn't
 
 232 LIFE 
 
 want to go to the cloakroom until he had seen 
 you." 
 
 * ' Say that I will be with him in a minute. ' ' 
 
 "I have to run away,'* she explained to 
 Jennie. " Henri has just come. He wants to 
 see me about something. No doubt the floor is 
 not properly waxed. These dancers are so 
 spoiled!" 
 
 She found Henri still bundled up in a won- 
 derful fur coat, his hat crushed under his 
 arm. As she looked at him, she thought she had 
 never seen him so pasty and unhealthy look- 
 ing. 
 
 He explained, with many protestations of 
 grief over having to disappoint her, that his 
 partner had met with a sudden accident which 
 would render it out of the question to give the 
 dance he had composed in her honor. Of 
 course, he himself was entirely at her service, 
 but at this hour it would be impossible to find 
 another professional disengaged. If Miss Stuy- 
 vesant herself, or if any of her guests, would 
 so far honor him 
 
 "Why," said Ruth thoughtfully, "I think it 
 might be managed. I'm very sorry about your 
 partner. She's such a pretty little thing. If 
 you will come into the ballroom as soon as you 
 are ready, I will see what I can do. ' ' 
 
 For a moment it seemed as if Henri hesi- 
 tated. And then through an open window, loud 
 enough to be heard above the orchestra, came 
 an automobile horn.
 
 LIFE 233 
 
 1 'Toot, toot, toot! Toot, toot! Toot, toot, 
 toot! Toot, toot!" 
 
 1 * What can that chauffeur be doing!" laughed 
 Ruth. "It sounds almost like a signal." 
 
 She glanced smilingly at Henri. He was com- 
 pletely transformed. His face, just now so 
 heavy, almost sullen, was wreathed in smiles. 
 His dull little eyes sparkled with pleasure. 
 
 "Certainly, Miss Stuyvesant. I will not de- 
 tain you a moment. With your permission, I 
 will go and take off my things." And with a 
 hasty bow he almost ran toward the dressing- 
 room. 
 
 As Euth came back to the ballroom, Reid came 
 over to her. 
 
 "May I have the next dance, Ruth?" 
 
 She looked at him without replying. 
 
 "Ruth," he went on in a low voice, "you, 
 above all others, must not misjudge me. I will 
 explain everything if you will only give me a 
 moment. ' ' 
 
 "What is there to explain! You were with 
 that woman." 
 
 ' * She asked me to sit down for a moment. I 
 did so, because I was so surprised at seeing her. 
 I don't wonder you didn't recognize her. I 
 didn't myself. She had to tell me who she was. 
 And when she began that tirade " 
 
 "I am ready whenever Miss Stuyvesant is," 
 said Henri's voice at his side. 
 
 "One moment, Henri. I will let you know," 
 said Ruth sharply.
 
 234 LIFE 
 
 "I recognize her! I never saw her before in 
 my life, surely. Who is she, then!" 
 
 "Yes, you saw her and talked with her once 
 that I know of. Since this afternoon I've found 
 out that she now calls herself " 
 
 "Miss Muriel Barresford," announced the 
 butler. 
 
 "Good God!" said Eeid sharply. His face 
 became crimson and then the color faded out, 
 leaving him deathly white. 
 
 "This is beyond endurance! " said Euth in 
 a low tone. 
 
 For the moment all the light laughter and the 
 sound of gay voices stopped. As it chanced, 
 the orchestra, too, was silent. From across the 
 great room Ruth could see her father wearing 
 a puzzled frown. Grace, alone of all that com- 
 pany, was perfectly self-possessed. 
 
 She advanced slowly into the room with the 
 soft glide of a panther. For a moment she 
 stood quite still, a smile, faintly mocking, just 
 touching her too crimson lips. Her wonderful 
 eyes, to-night heavily penciled, had a look of 
 almost childish inquiry, as if she were wonder- 
 ing that no one came forward to greet her. 
 Even Burnett was stirred. His eyes glittered 
 and he drew a deep breath. "With a groan Ralph 
 Stuyvesant drew back into the embrasure of the 
 window, where behind the heavy velvet cur- 
 tains he mopped great beads of sweat from his 
 forehead. Never had she been so transcend- 
 ently beautiful. But it was the beauty of the
 
 LIFE 235 
 
 damned. She might have posed as Evil In- 
 carnate. 
 
 Her body was draped in some gossamery 
 tissue of crimson and gold that showed every 
 curve and line of her perfect figure and em- 
 phasized the warm whiteness of her naked arms, 
 and neck and breast. Through the strands of 
 her dusky hair she had braided the rope of 
 pearls Ralph had given her. She wore no jewels 
 on her hands and arms ; but beneath the skirt of 
 her robe one could see her sandaled feet loaded 
 with rings. 
 
 Simultaneously Ruth and her father made a 
 step forward. But Henri was too quick for 
 them. He darted to Grace's side, and made 
 her a sweeping bow. 
 
 "Mademoiselle, Miss Stuyvesant has in- 
 structed me to choose a partner for my exhibi- 
 tion dance. Will you do me the honor?" His 
 voice was shrill with excitement. 
 
 "But, surely " 
 
 "Let them dance it out," said Reid in Ruth's 
 ear. ' ' Then we '11 get her out quietly. No one '11 
 know that she wasn't paid to come." 
 
 At a signal from Henri the orchestra struck 
 up, and the dance began. Nothing to compare 
 with it had ever been seen, even on the stage, 
 in New York. For a long time, unknown to 
 both Burnett and Ralph, Grace had been taking 
 lessons from Henri. But to-night it was she 
 who was the teacher and Henri the pupil. Had 
 she not completely dominated him, he would
 
 236 LIFE 
 
 never have dared go to such extremes of atu 
 dacity. At length, after one particularly las- 
 civious posture, Mr. Stuyvesant's voice rang 
 out: 
 
 * ' One moment, please. ' ' 
 
 The dancers paused. 
 
 1 'I think this dance has gone far enough." 
 
 "Certainly, Mr. Stuyvesant, as you wish,'' 
 said Henri humbly. And he added: "I am 
 sorry." 
 
 But Grace was not so easily cowed. 
 
 "Oh, if you are shocked at anything so 
 mild " 
 
 "You and your partner will leave quietly, and 
 at once." Mr. Stuyvesant continued to address 
 himself to Henri. 
 
 "She's not my partner, Mr. Stuyvesant; I'm 
 only a professional. You shouldn't blame me 
 for what a lady makes me do," whined Henri. 
 
 "A lady!" 
 
 "I am Miss Barresford, Mr. Stuyvesant, 
 one of your daughter's guests," said Grace 
 haughtily. 
 
 "Father," said Euth, coming forward to his 
 side, "there is evidently some mistake. Miss 
 Barresford 's name was not on the list of those 
 to be invited." 
 
 As she met Grace's eye, the thought shot 
 through her mind: "He is right, he is right! I 
 have seen this woman before. But where and 
 when?" 
 
 "In that case, Miss Barresford, I must ask
 
 LIFE 237 
 
 you to leave my house at once," said Mr. Stuy- 
 vesant coldly. 
 
 Grace drew herself up to her full height. 
 
 "Certainly, Mr. Stuyvesant. I do not care to 
 stay where I am not wanted. But I most cer- 
 tainly refuse to be put in the position of one 
 who has forced herself into your house. ' ' 
 
 From her breast she drew the card she had 
 received from Burnett. "Here is my invita- 
 tion. It was handed to me by Mr. William Reid. 
 He is a dear friend of mine, as well as of your 
 daughter's." 
 
 Mechanically he took the card from her hand 
 and scrutinized it carefully through his glasses. 
 There was a moment of intense silence, broken 
 only by the snapping of the sticks of Ruth's fan. 
 
 "Mr. Reid gave you this?" 
 
 "Yes, this afternoon." 
 
 "^hat statement is absolutely false," said 
 Reid, coming forward. 
 
 "Yes?" Grace gave a little mocking laugh. 
 "I appeal to Miss Stuyvesant. She saw us to- 
 gether this afternoon. When Mr. Reid gave me 
 the invitation, I naturally presumed that it came 
 from her. ' ' 
 
 "Call Miss Barresford's car," said Mr. Stuy- 
 vesant, turning to a servant who stood near. 
 
 ' ' Very well ! It required considerable urging 
 to induce me to come to such a dull party; I 
 shall leave without regret. Good night. ' ' And, 
 with a slight inclination of the head, she swept 
 from the room.
 
 238 LIFE 
 
 "Mr. Stuyvesant, I can only give yon my 
 word of honor that I had nothing to do with 
 that woman's coming here." 
 
 "And yet, the name is in yonr writing. I 
 prefer to say 'good night' to you also, Mr. 
 Eeid." 
 
 "Father " 
 
 "One moment, Ruth." 
 
 Reid came closer to the old gentleman, and 
 spoke so low that not even Ruth could hear what 
 he said. 
 
 "Find who wrote Miss Barresford's name on 
 that card, and you will know who wrote your 
 name on that check." 
 
 ' ' That may be. But until I do " 
 
 "Father, I believe Mr. Reid absolutely. To- 
 night is my night. This is my ball. He is my 
 guest. I do not wish him to go. " 
 
 "Supper is served, Miss Stuyvesant," an- 
 nounced the butler. 
 
 Immediately the constraint which had rested 
 on all of the guests from the time of Grace's 
 sensational arrival until her departure van- 
 ished. Once more they broke up into little 
 chattering groups, slowly moving toward the 
 supper-room. 
 
 "Won't you take me in to supper, Will!" 
 asked Ruth, her hand on Reid's arm. "Father, 
 won't you come in with us? " 
 
 "Not for a moment, my dear; I have some- 
 thing I want to attend to first." 
 
 Mr. Stuyvesant waited until the big room was
 
 LIFE 239 
 
 empty he was still in the library, where 
 Grace's indecent dance had taken place and he 
 was quite alone. Then he beckoned to one of 
 the footmen. 
 
 "Where is Mr. Burnett?" 
 
 "He's at supper, sir." 
 
 "Tell him I wish to see him in my study at 
 once." 
 
 "Your study is being used as a coatroom, 
 you know, sir. ' ' 
 
 "So it is. I forgot for the moment. Then 
 close those doors and have Mr. Burnett come 
 here." 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 The man started to close the big folding 
 doors, pulling the heavy curtains over them at 
 the same time. Mr. Stuyvesant stopped sud- 
 denly in his walk. 
 
 "One moment. Have Mr. Burnett wait for 
 me here until I have finished at the telephone." 
 
 "Very good, sir." 
 
 He left the room by one of the side doors and 
 was followed after a moment by the footman, 
 who had hardly disappeared before Henri came 
 sneaking in, closing the door stealthily behind 
 him. A swift glance around assured him that 
 the room was empty. Keeping his eyes toward 
 the double doors, he backed swiftly to one of 
 the windows that gave on a side street, and 
 opening it, gave a signal with his handkerchief. 
 Without looking to see if his signal was ob- 
 served, leaving the window still open, he began
 
 240 LIFE 
 
 the steps of an intricate dance, whistling softly 
 to himself. 
 
 He kept on without losing a beat, contenting 
 himself with a curt nod by way of salutation 
 when Dutch Joe, still carefully carrying his 
 bundle under his arm, stepped in at the window, 
 closing it cautiously behind him. 
 
 "You took your time," snarled Joe. "I'm 
 'most froze!" 
 
 "Cheese, Joe, for God's sake!" 
 
 1 ' Ah, shut up ! You make me tired. You ain 't 
 got nothin' to lose. "What you think you are 
 a damned top ! ' ' 
 
 Henri went on with his dance. But he had 
 stopped his whistling. 
 
 "Got your waiter's outfit?" 
 
 "Sure." 
 
 Going over to the fireplace, Joe ripped the 
 paper from his bundle and threw it into the 
 grate, and laid a coat and waistcoat, with a 
 dicky and collar on a chair. 
 
 "Where's the safe?" 
 
 "The wall safe, where they keep the jewels 
 and stuff, is in the old guy's room on the next 
 floor. Right, front." 
 
 "Good! That's where I want to get. Now, 
 duck, and see if the way's clear while I get into 
 these duds." 
 
 "Very well. Let him know that I'm wait- 
 ing," came Mr. Stuyvesant's voice from the 
 next room. 
 
 With a swift movement, Dutch Joe gathered
 
 LIFE 241 
 
 up his belongings and made for the embrasure 
 of the window, closing the curtains behind him. 
 Henri went on with his dance. 
 
 "What are you doing here!" demanded Mr. 
 Stuyvesant. 
 
 I i I beg your pardon, sir. I saw that the room 
 was empty and I was just practicing some 
 steps." 
 
 With a bow he left the room, closing the door 
 behind him. 
 
 Mr. Stuyvesant was too excited and angry to 
 recall that he had ordered the dancer to leave 
 the house. Taking a paper from his pocket, he 
 put it on the mantelshelf and began to pace 
 restlessly up and down the room, occasionally 
 glancing impatiently at the door. After a mo- 
 ment or two he picked up the paper again and 
 restored it to his pocket, just as Burnett came 
 in through the folcting doors. 
 
 "You wished to see me, sir?" 
 
 For a second Mr. Stuyvesant was incapable 
 of speech. His face became scarlet. He ad- 
 vanced to Burnett with clenched fist, his mouth 
 working painfully. 
 
 "You you damned thief! What have you 
 done with the two million dollars you stole from 
 Stuyvesant and Company 1 ?" 
 
 ' ' Stolen 1 Are you mad ! Oh, I won 't talk to 
 you!" said Burnett contemptuously. 
 
 I 1 You won 't ! Then you '11 talk to Bull Ander- 
 son. He's on his way here now to get you. 
 You're a defaulter and a thief. You've robbed
 
 242 LIFE 
 
 me. Looted my bank of two million dollars, and 
 by God! you're going to pay for it!" 
 
 "On what do you base such ridiculous 
 charges?" 
 
 "On this 1" He held out the paper which he 
 took from his pocket. "On this record in your 
 own writing which I found this afternoon by 
 forcing open your desk, after I found that se- 
 curities were missing from the vault. While 
 this dance has been going on, I have been going 
 over this list in my room. I had intended wait- 
 ing to arrest you until to-morrow, but Ander- 
 son won't hear of it." 
 
 "All right," said Burnett coolly. "You have 
 me." 
 
 "Then you don't deny it." 
 
 "Certainly not. But you'd better call in 
 Ralph, so that he can have time to pack his bag 
 to take that little trip to the Tombs with me." 
 
 "What!" 
 
 " He 's in just as deep as I am. A little deeper, 
 I should say. I haven't forged any checks!" 
 
 "Good God! My boy, too. Then he's lied to 
 me." 
 
 "Of course he has. Looks different, doesn't 
 it?" asked Burnett with a sneer. 
 
 "No!" 
 
 He drew himself up to his full height and 
 looked Burnett squarely in the face, with a sort 
 of noble dignity. For a moment the younger 
 man paid him the tribute of real admiration. 
 
 "You know what Stuyvesant and Company
 
 LIFE 243 
 
 has always stood for. It's the one big bank in 
 New York that has always taken any account, 
 however small. Thousands of our depositors 
 are laborers, clerks, widows and working girls. 
 They've come to us because our name stood for 
 strength and honesty. And my name is going 
 to stand for that to the end. To protect these 
 poor people I'll beggar myself to the last dollar 
 I have in the world. Not one of them shall 
 lose a penny. And I'll send you away, and my 
 son away, too." 
 
 1 1 Then you 're a fool ! No banker is like that. ' ' 
 
 "Every banker ought to be like that !" 
 
 "Now listen to me a minute, Mr. Stuyvesant. 
 It won't wreck you if it doesn't get out. Just 
 keep quiet. Everything will go on just the same. 
 Your name will be saved. But if you disgrace 
 
 Ralph and me Eemember he's your son 
 
 and I'm considered as good as your son-in-law." 
 
 "What ! You have the effrontery to speak of 
 marrying my daughter!" 
 
 "I love her." 
 
 "You !" 
 
 "Give me that paper. We'll burn it there in 
 the fire." 
 
 " No ! You 're going to jail, I tell you. ' ' 
 
 "And I tell you, by God, I'm not ! I'm going 
 to destroy that paper. Damn you, give it to 
 me!" 
 
 With a spring he had the banker by the 
 throat, while with his disengaged hand he tried 
 to snatch the incriminating paper. But Mr.
 
 244 LIFE 
 
 Stuyvesant had been too powerful a man in his 
 day not to have considerable strength left. Still 
 clutching the paper firmly, he struggled to free' 
 himself from Burnett's grasp. Not a sound 
 was uttered by either of them. From the hall 
 outside could be heard the music of the band 
 playing an air from a popular comic opera, and 
 the sound of singing from the supper-room. To 
 and fro, to and fro they swayed with a grotesque 
 effect of keeping time to the music. 
 
 At length the banker abandoned the attempt 
 to free himself from his enemy's clutch. With 
 his free hand he reached for his pocket and 
 pulled out a pistol. By this time the struggle 
 had carried them over near the window behind 
 which Joe was still concealed. 
 
 "Oh, you would, would you!" 
 
 Burnett tightened the hold on his throat and 
 made a grab to get possession of the pistol. 
 Mr. Stuyvesant made one last supreme effort 
 to wrench himself free, fighting all the time to 
 raise his pistol hand, while Burnett, who held 
 him firmly by the wrist, was straining every 
 effort to keep it down. Suddenly the pistol 
 went off. 
 
 With a muffled cry, Burnett instantly let go 
 his hold. Mr. Stuyvesant stood swaying on his 
 feet for a moment. Then, with a groan, he 
 crumpled up on the floor. 
 
 Burnett stood still, listening, while the or- 
 chestra played on. 
 
 "Thank God, they didn't hear it!"
 
 LIFE 245 
 
 He bent swiftly over the body, his head on 
 the fallen man's chest, listening for the beating 
 of his heart. He sprang to his feet. 
 
 "Dead! Good God! I didn't mean to. Good 
 God!" 
 
 Listening again to assure himself that no one 
 was coming, he half carried, half dragged the 
 body over to a large armchair which he wheeled 
 in front of the fire. Then he went back and 
 got the pistol, which he laid on the floor beside 
 the chair, so that it might look as if it had 
 dropped from the dead man's hand. Yes, that 
 was a good idea. To have it look as if it had 
 dropped from his hand. His hand ! Good God, 
 the paper! 
 
 He rushed round to the other side of the big 
 chair. But it wasn't in the other hand. He 
 tried to think. Which hand had it been in while 
 they were wrestling over there. Yes, it had 
 been in the right hand. The dead man must 
 have managed somehow to return it to his 
 pocket. 
 
 Had he looked over at the window now he 
 would have seen a long, thin hand dart out from 
 behind the curtain and seize upon the crumpled 
 paper which Mr. Stuyvesant had dropped as he 
 fell. 
 
 He was in the midst of searching the dead 
 man's pockets when Dutch Joe, making a long 
 arm, put his finger on the electric button and 
 turned out the lights. Only the glow from the 
 fire relieved the darkness of the room. This
 
 246 LIFE 
 
 was too much for even Burnett's iron nerves. 
 He gave a sort of sobbing cry, and backed away 
 from the dead man, lounging limply in the big 
 chair. For a moment he leaned against the 
 wall, shaking from head to foot. Suddenly his 
 rolling eye caught sight of the bellying curtain 
 still partly drawn in front of the window, which 
 Joe had not taken the time to close in his hur- 
 ried exit. 
 
 "My God! Who's there?" 
 
 He rushed over to the open window. But all 
 he saw was the figure of a man scurrying across 
 the street, stooping as he ran.
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 As he stood there, fairly petrified with terror, 
 the folding doors were opened and Reid's big 
 figure stood at the entrance, standing out clearly 
 against the background of the brilliantly lighted 
 rooms. Surprised at the darkness, he stood 
 hesitating a moment until his eye happened to 
 fall on the figure of the dead man in the chair 
 which was partly turned toward him. 
 
 "Mr. Stuyvesant?" 
 
 Receiving no answer, he came slowly into the 
 room down toward the fireplace. 
 
 "Mr. Stuyvesant?" he said again. "Poor 
 old fellow! He must have fallen asleep." 
 
 As he leaned over and laid his hand gently on 
 Mr. Stuyvesant's shoulder, Burnett, sneaking 
 along the wall, gained the open door and 
 safety. 
 
 ' ' Mr. Stuyvesant ! ' ' As he gave him a gentle 
 little shake, the body lurched forward. 
 
 "Mr. Stuyvesant! What's the matter?" 
 
 Suddenly he started back. ' ' Oh, my God ! ' ' 
 
 He rushed across the room. As he reached 
 the door he met Burnett, just coming in. 
 
 "What's the matter?" asked Burnett coolly. 
 
 ' l Why why I Mr. Stuyvesant over 
 there." 
 
 247
 
 248 LIFE 
 
 "What's the matter with him! Why are you 
 so excited?" 
 
 "I found him over there dead ! ' ' 
 
 "Dead! Great God!" 
 
 Switching on the light, Burnett took one look 
 at the body, and then turned on Reid. 
 
 "How long were you here? Help! Help 
 here!" 
 
 "Get help," he said excitedly to the footman 
 who came hurrying in. "Something has hap- 
 pened to Mr. Stuyvesant. Get a doctor!" 
 
 From the other rooms came the sound of 
 hurrying feet and a confused murmur of voices. 
 One of the footmen threw open the doors, and 
 in a crowd the guests came surging in. Al- 
 ready some of the women had begun to cry 
 hysterically. 
 
 "I found him here " began Reid. 
 
 "You just found him here?" 
 
 "Yes, the butler told me he was here in this 
 room." 
 
 "And you found him dead?" 
 
 "What do you mean?" 
 
 "I mean " 
 
 "Father! father!" came Ruth's voice. She 
 came rushing in, putting the people aside who 
 tried to keep her back. She dropped on her 
 knees beside the big chair. 
 
 "Father! Speak to me! Speak to me!" 
 
 "A doctor! For God's sake get a doctor!" 
 she cried, turning to Reid. 
 
 "I have a doctor. And let no one leave this
 
 LIFE 249 
 
 house," came a big bullying voice from the hall- 
 way. 
 
 It was "Bull" Anderson, the detective. He 
 came into the room, a strangely incongruous 
 figure in contrast to the brilliantly dressed 
 women and the well-groomed men. He wore 
 his hat pulled over his eyes and his coat collar 
 was turned up. With him was a quiet-looking 
 man with a capable face, carrying a small black 
 bag. Without losing a minute, he crossed over 
 to the chair by the fire and began to examine 
 the body with the authoritative air of one who 
 perfectly understood his business. 
 
 For a moment Euth raised her head and 
 looked at him, and then let it fall once more 
 on her arms outstretched on the arm of the 
 chair. 
 
 ' * Thank God it's you, Anderson. In my opin- 
 ion, Mr. Stuyvesant has been murdered. ' ' 
 
 "Murdered!" Anderson, too, bent over the 
 body. 
 
 "Shot dead," said the doctor briefly. "He 
 couldn't by any possibility have done it him- 
 self." 
 
 Anderson turned sharply to two detectives 
 who had followed him in. 
 
 "John, the window. Mike, the servants. 
 Bring them in here. Bring everybody in here. 
 Watch those doors. Put a man at the front 
 door. And you, ' ' he said, turning to the Sutler, 
 "you watch that door over there. Let no one 
 leave this room. Burnett, 'phone headquarters.
 
 250 LIFE 
 
 Have them rush, the reserves and detectives. 
 And tell 'em to notify the Coroner. " 
 
 "At once," said Burnett, hurrying toward 
 the door. 
 
 "The windows are all closed and locked, 
 Chief," said one of the detectives. On his way 
 to the telephone Burnett smiled to himself. 
 That had been an inspiration, to close and lock 
 that window ! 
 
 "Oh-ho!" said Anderson, addressing no one 
 in particular. ' ' An inside job ! " 
 
 At this the silence which had held all the 
 guests was broken. A murmur of voices, 
 pitched in a subdued key, filled the room. 
 
 "Shut up, all of you!" thundered Anderson. 
 "I'll do all the talking necessary." 
 
 He strode over to one of the windows, and, 
 throwing it open, shouted to some men in an 
 automobile in the street outside. 
 
 "Jim, pick up the peg post and the man on 
 beat, and put 'em at the front and back of the 
 house. Don't let a soul leave. And you others, 
 come in here. Quick ! ' ' 
 
 He closed the window and returned to his sta- 
 tion beside the fireplace. An elderly gentleman, 
 one of Mr. Stuyvesant's friends, came forward 
 with a little air of self-importance. 
 
 "Of course, Inspector, you must do your 
 duty. But there is no necessity for keeping us 
 all shut in here with with the body." 
 
 "I'll be the judge of that." 
 
 "But I protest!"
 
 LIFE 251 
 
 Eudely pushing him aside, Anderson went 
 over and stood looking down at Ruth's bowed 
 head. 
 
 "I tell you, I protest. I protest strongly!" 
 
 "Shut up!" 
 
 "How dare you! I'd have you know 
 that I'm Mr. Elliott Keen Van Courtlandt, 
 and " 
 
 "I don't give a damn who you are. There 
 has been a foul murder done here. The police 
 are in charge now. And I'd have you know, 
 all of you, that I don't care for your silks and 
 your satins, or your diamonds and your money. 
 You all look alike to me. All I know is that 
 one of you is a murderer. And I intend to 
 find out which one of you it is, and take him, 
 or her, no matter what his name is." 
 
 Half a dozen policemen in uniform came 
 piling through the door in time to hear his last 
 words. 
 
 "I'll have you broken for this outrage !" said 
 Van Courtlandt fiercely. 
 
 "Will you? And I'll have you in the station 
 house. Take him!" 
 
 A couple of policemen seized the unfortunate 
 gentleman by the shoulder and dragged him 
 from the room. One of the guests screamed 
 hysterically. 
 
 "If any of you women begin screaming I'll 
 take you, too!" yelled Anderson. 
 
 "Look, Chief, there's where he was shot," 
 said one of the detectives, pointing over to the
 
 252 LIFE 
 
 window. "They must have dragged him over 
 the floor to that chair." 
 
 "Here's the gun," said the doctor, holding 
 it out. "I just found it on the floor nearly 
 under the chair." 
 
 "Hum!" said Anderson, taking it from his 
 hand, ".38 Colt Automatic. Freshly fired. 
 That's it." 
 
 "Do you know this pistol, Miss Stuyvesant?" 
 he asked in a gentler voice than he had used 
 yet. 
 
 Euth gave no sign of having heard him. 
 Reid, who had all this time been kneeling by 
 her, vainly trying to comfort her, whispered in 
 her ear: 
 
 "Mr. Anderson is speaking to you, sweet- 
 heart. Better try to answer him." 
 
 "I don't know anything! My father! My 
 father!" 
 
 "Did your father have a pistol?" 
 
 "Yes no I don't know. I don't care! 
 What good can all this do now?" 
 
 "Your father has been murdered. We need 
 your help to find who is guilty." 
 
 "I don't want to know. Will knowing bring 
 him back to me?" 
 
 She raised her tear-stained face and looked 
 about her, seeming to see the room full of peo- 
 ple for the first time. With Reid's help she 
 struggled to her feet. 
 
 "Get these people out!" She turned on An- 
 derson fiercely. "Get them out, I say. Can't
 
 LIFE 253 
 
 I be left alone with my dead father? Get them 
 out!" 
 
 "Hold on, young woman! You're not in 
 charge here," he said, relapsing into his accus- 
 tomed brutality. 
 
 "Don't you dare speak to her like that!" said 
 Reid, facing him. 
 
 "I'll speak to her any way I choose, and to 
 you any way I choose. Who are you and what 
 have you to do with this affair?" 
 
 "I am Mr. Reid." 
 
 "Mr. Reid was my father's secretary," added 
 Ruth. 
 
 "Then do you know this gun?" 
 
 "It's the one Mr. Stuyvesant kept in his 
 desk." 
 
 "You are sure?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "What makes you sure?" 
 
 "I bought it for him." 
 
 "So you bought the gun that he kept in his 
 desk," commented the detective with sneering 
 emphasis. 
 
 "What are you getting at?" demanded Reid 
 savagely. 
 
 "I'm going to get at the murderer before I 
 finish." 
 
 He wheeled on the frightened guests. 
 
 "Who heard the shot fired? Did you or 
 you or you?" 
 
 He pointed from one to the other, but there! 
 was a general shaking of heads.
 
 254 LIFE 
 
 "The leader of the orchestra says that the 
 music was playing, Chief, and the doors were 
 shut," said a policeman. 
 
 1 ' Urn ! Who discovered the body I ' ' 
 
 "I did," saidEeid. 
 
 ' * 0-h-h, you again ! How did you happen to 
 discover it?" 
 
 "I was looking for Mr. Stuyvesant. The 
 butler told me he was in here. I opened the 
 doors, which someone had closed. The room 
 was dark. I thought at first that he was 
 asleep." 
 
 "How did you see him, if the room was 
 dark?" 
 
 "By the firelight." 
 
 "Turn off those lights," commanded An- 
 derson. 
 
 One of the detectives immediately switched 
 off the lights. A number of the women, for- 
 getting their lesson, screamed again. 
 
 "Shut up, all of you! Now, Reid, rehearse 
 what you did. Go back to the door, please, and 
 open it just as you did." 
 
 "The room was dark," said Reid, speaking 
 from the darkness at the doorway; "I opened 
 the door and came in. I saw Mr. Stuyvesant 
 sitting there and started down toward him. 
 I " 
 
 "One moment. Did you see or hear anything 
 to lead you to believe that anyone else was in 
 the room?" 
 
 "No, I did not"
 
 LIFE 255 
 
 "Could anyone have passed yon and gone out 
 of the door?" 
 
 "I hardly think so." 
 
 "Goon." 
 
 "I spoke to Mr. Stuyvesant. He didn't an- 
 swer. I touched him. He was dead. I turned, 
 hurried to this door to give the alarm and met 
 Mr. Burnett." 
 
 As he turned to illustrate his action, Burnett 
 appeared in the doorway, returning from 
 having sent his various telephone mes- 
 sages. 
 
 "And then," said Burnett, interrupting, "7 
 turned on the light and found Mr. Keid shaking 
 from head to foot, and greatly excited ! ' ' 
 
 For the first time it dawned on Reid that sus- 
 picion was beginning to point toward him. Six 
 months ago he would have scoffed at the idea 
 of any innocent man being falsely accused of 
 crime. He always discounted such stories when 
 he read of them in the papers. Suddenly it 
 came over him with a flash that it was not, 
 after all, a great step from accusing a man of 
 forgery to accusing him of murder. 
 
 Burnett had been his accuser in the first place. 
 What if he should take it into his head to accuse 
 him again? Or even mention that his late em- 
 ployer had demanded his resignation while he 
 was under suspicion of another crime! True, 
 Mr. Stuyvesant himself had professed to be- 
 lieve in his innocence. But Ralph and Burnett 
 had not, or at least had pretended that they
 
 256 LIFE 
 
 had not. And now Mr. Stuyvesant was dead! 
 
 "How long were you in the room!" 
 
 "I can't say. Not over an hour I mean over 
 a minute!" He corrected himself nervously. 
 He looked up and met Burnett's eye. He 
 showed no signs of nervousness. He seemed 
 perfectly unconcerned, and a faint smile played 
 round his lips. 
 
 Upon Ruth, too, had dawned the idea of the 
 way things were drifting. It roused her as 
 nothing else could from her absorption in the 
 death of her father. For the first time she 
 wondered why Ealph had not come forward. 
 He had been the gayest of the gay in the supper- 
 room. But since she had come running at Bur- 
 nett's first call for help she had not seen him. 
 But for the moment her chief concern was for 
 Eeid. 
 
 "I object to all this," she said coldly. "I 
 won't have it, Mr. Anderson. My father is 
 
 dead, and and " For a second she could 
 
 not go on, the full realization of her loss 
 sweeping over her afresh. "It isn't as if you 
 could bring him back!" she went on passion- 
 ately. "You can't do any good. Stop! I de- 
 mand that you stop ! ' ' 
 
 "Miss Stuyvesant, I must again remind you 
 that this is one time when you don't direct the 
 law," Anderson answered her with just a sug- 
 gestion of malice. 
 
 She made a little helpless gesture, and looked 
 appealingly at Reid. Anderson caught the look.
 
 LIFE 257 
 
 and, if possible, looked more determined and 
 grimmer than ever. 
 
 "When you entered, Mr. Burnett," he said 
 smoothly, "did you notice anyone in the out- 
 side room!" 
 
 Burnett thought a minute. 
 
 "N-o-o, I Oh, yes. The dancing man, 
 
 Henri." 
 
 "Is he here?" 
 
 "There he is." Burnett pointed to a cower- 
 ing figure at the extreme end of the room. 
 
 "Come out here, you!" 
 
 But the terrified Henri did not move, except 
 to try to hide his face with his arm. 
 
 Half a dozen strides brought the detective 
 to his side. Pulling down the protecting arm, 
 he peered into the frightened wretch's face. 
 He gave a shrill laugh of amusement. 
 
 "Hel-lo! In the name of all that's wonder- 
 ful, Dago Mike! Well, well, well! So you've 
 turned dancer, eh! And French! Henri! 
 Did you turn honest at the same time! Pah!" 
 
 In a burst of savage rage, he dragged Dago 
 Mike by the collar through the gaping crowd 
 that drew away to make a passage for him and 
 hurled him to the floor, kicking viciously at him 
 as he did so. 
 
 "What business have you got with decent 
 people? You dirty little pickpocket!" 
 
 The erstwhile dapper "Henri" was a piti- 
 ably abject figure. Anderson's heavy hand had 
 torn his collar from his shirt. The terror
 
 258 LIFE 
 
 under which he was manifestly laboring gave 
 him a shrunken look, so that his modish clothes 
 seemed actually too large for his wizened little 
 body. 
 
 "I ain't done nothin'!" he protested shrilly. 
 "I don't know nothin'! Honest to God, Chief, 
 I don't." 
 
 "Well, you'd better know somethin' and 
 damned quick at that. ' ' 
 
 "I I " He looked helplessly at Burnett. 
 
 "Don't forget there are a couple of in- 
 dictments still hanging over you. And if 
 I send you up the river, you go as a third 
 offender. ' ' 
 
 "Good God, Chief, that's life! I'll tell you 
 anything anything ! ' ' 
 
 "Is Mr. Burnett's story true!" 
 
 "Yes, Chief, yes. I saw him going to the 
 door." 
 
 "Did you see this man go in?" 
 
 Anderson indicated Eeid with a jerk of hi* 
 head. 
 
 Mike looked helplessly from Anderson to 
 Burnett and back to Anderson. 
 
 "No, sir." 
 
 "Didn't you 1 see me?" demanded Reid. 
 
 Again Mike hesitated. But reading in An- 
 derson's face what he interpreted as the police 
 desire for conviction, he again shook his head. 
 
 "No, sir." 
 
 "Ah!" said Anderson, with a smile of satis- 
 faction.
 
 LIFE 259 
 
 "Did anyone here close the doors of this 
 room?" he asked after a short silence. 
 
 ' ' I did, sir. ' ' It was the butler who answered. 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 "Mr. Stuyvesant told me to close the doors 
 and tell Mr. Burnett that he wanted to see him 
 at once." 
 
 This unexpected reply made an immediate 
 sensation on every person present with the ex- 
 ception of Burnett, who was of course prepared 
 for it. The browbeaten guests so far forgot 
 themselves as to make comments in a low tone, 
 so that a low murmur filled the room. Ander- 
 son, himself, was sufficiently disconcerted to 
 permit this incipient rebellion to pass unre- 
 buked. 
 
 "He sent you for Mr. Burnett!" he repeated, 
 more to gain time than because he had not per- 
 fectly understood the man's reply to his earlier 
 question. 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "And did you carry out his orders?" 
 
 "Yes, sir. I told Mr. Burnett, and he came 
 at once." 
 
 "That is true," said Burnett calmly. 
 
 "What did Mr. Stuyvesant want with you?" 
 
 "I'd rather not say." 
 
 "I didn't ask you what you'd rather do. An- 
 swer my question." 
 
 "He had discharged his secretary, Mr. Eeid, 
 a few days ago, and I believe forbidden him the 
 house. He was greatly excited over over
 
 260 LIFE 
 
 something. Said lie had telephoned you, or was 
 about to telephone you. I am not sure which. ' ' 
 
 "Did he say why he had telephoned, or was 
 about to telephone, to me?" 
 
 "He had decided to press a charge of forgery 
 against Mr. Reid." 
 
 "That's a lie!" Reid's voice rang out. 
 
 Burnett shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 "You will doubtless find the forged check 
 it is drawn for twenty thousand dollars in one 
 of Mr. Stuyvesant's pockets." 
 
 At a sign from Anderson, one of the detec- 
 tives began to search the dead man's pock- 
 ets. After a moment, he found a small, folded 
 piece of paper which he opened and, having 
 scrutinized it sharply, handed it over to his 
 superior. 
 
 "Here it is, Chief." 
 
 "Mr. Ealph Stuyvesant can confirm my 
 story, ' ' volunteered Burnett. 
 
 All eyes searched the room for Ealph, but 
 he was not to be seen. 
 
 "He was here only "began Burnett, when 
 
 the curtains that earlier in this eventful even- 
 ing had served to conceal the ingenuous coun- 
 tenance of Mr. Joseph Schmidt, yeggman, 
 parted to disclose a Ralph so wan and haggard 
 that his appearance made nearly as great a 
 sensation as the butler's unexpected testimony 
 had done. Only Ruth, who was aware of his 
 extraordinary and morbid fear of death, could 
 have explained his hiding behind the curtain
 
 LIFE 261 
 
 and his complete transformation from the 
 Ealph of a few hours before. 
 
 "Have you heard what Mr. Burnett has just 
 stated in reference to Mr. Reid and a forged 
 check!" asked Anderson. 
 
 "Yes, sir," said Ralph in a tone so low that 
 it was only with the greatest difficulty that those 
 at a little distance could catch his reply. 
 
 "Say it's not true, Ralph! Say it's not 
 true ! ' ' begged Ruth. 
 
 "And speak louder, if you're going to speak 
 at all," admonished Anderson. 
 
 "It's the truth. I was present when my 
 father discharged Mr. Reid." 
 
 "You hear that, Reid?" 
 
 "Yes, and it's all a lie!" protested Reid 
 stormily. 
 
 * * Then why were you coming to see Mr. Stuy- 
 vesant at the time you say you found him 
 dead?" 
 
 "I was coming to " He stopped short. 
 
 "I refuse to answer." 
 
 "Really?" 
 
 "If Mr. Reid won't answer, I will," said 
 Ruth in her ringing voice. "He was seeking 
 my father, at my request, to announce our mar- 
 riage." 
 
 Dead silence greeted this astounding state- 
 ment. And then there was a perfect babel of 
 comment, which even Anderson's raised hand 
 could not check for the nonce. 
 
 " It 's the shock. She doesn 't know what she 's
 
 262 LIFE 
 
 saying," said Ralph with more real conviction 
 than his tone generally showed. 
 
 "It isn't true, I'll take my oath on it!" raged 
 Burnett. 
 
 "I'll take mine it is!" said Jennie Bruce, 
 who was standing near him. "You see, I was 
 there." 
 
 Ruth waited a minute for the clamor to die 
 down. She wore a sort of angry smile. Her 
 eyes held Anderson's. 
 
 "It is true. Now, do you believe him?" 
 
 But Anderson's face had grown instantly 
 grave at her first words. And now his gruff 
 voice was almost gentle, as he said : 
 
 "I honor your belief in the man you love, 
 Mrs. Reid, but it has remained for you to fur- 
 nish the strongest motive of all for this crime." 
 And then, sternly: "William Reid, I arrest you 
 on the charge of murder. ' ' 
 
 "No, no! Yousha'n't,yousha'n't! He's in- 
 nocent. I'll stick to him. I'll clear him. He's 
 innocent, I tell you! My husband!" screamed 
 Ruth. 
 
 He had her in his arms, caressing, soothing, 
 attempting to calm her. 
 
 "My little wife ! My darling ! Of course it's 
 a horrid mistake. The charge won't stand a 
 moment in a court. Don't cry, sweetheart, I'll 
 be back again in a few hours ! ' ' 
 
 "Take him!" said Anderson.
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 How Euth Eeid lived through the strain of 
 the awful months that followed her father's 
 murder and kept her reason was a wonder to 
 many of her former friends. But she was 
 young, she had a superb constitution, splendid 
 health and an inexhaustible store of vitality to 
 draw upon. But more sustaining than all, she 
 had her undiminished faith in her husband's 
 innocence, undimmed by the verdict of the 
 world. 
 
 For Big Bill Reid, the erstwhile idol of Yale, 
 had been found guilty of murder and condemned 
 to death. 
 
 As Ruth sat day after day in the crowded 
 courtroom watching the slow unfolding of the 
 plot, so well worked up, which was to carry 
 conviction of guilt not only to the minds of the 
 jury, but to the world at large, she had abso- 
 lutely no feeling of reality. It was a grotesque 
 impossibility that a man's life should be sworn 
 away in any such fashion. But Bull Anderson 
 and the District Attorney had done their work 
 only too well. 
 
 Facts were distorted, sinister motives 
 ascribed to the simplest acts. Reid was painted 
 as a perfect Frankenstein, a monster of ingrati- 
 tude, a primitive animal with a natural lust for 
 
 263
 
 264 LIFE 
 
 blood, and a crafty, scheming creature who 
 would stoop to any act of mean dishonesty to 
 gratify his love of gold, in turn. 
 
 And to Ruth's astonishment, the newspapers, 
 almost without exception, condemned her hus- 
 band from the first. The jurors were called 
 upon to uphold the honor of the community and 
 show that the "Stuyvesant millions could not 
 buy this young ruffian off." She almost felt 
 glad that her father had not lived to know that 
 his fortune so honorably and honestly acquired 
 was regarded as "blood money" wrung from 
 the sweat and labor of the poor! Nor did the 
 papers spare her. She, too, was an unnatural 
 creature without a heart. A weak, neurotic 
 creature, fascinated by her husband's physical 
 charms. 
 
 And during the long suspense, pending the 
 decision which was eventually to deny them a 
 new trial, she read with a curling lip the tirades 
 against the law's delays, the angry declarations 
 that in this country the rich were never brought 
 to justice, that only the poor paid the penalty 
 of crime ! Over and over again she blessed the 
 millions which enabled her to fight in this un- 
 equal contest for the man she loved and whom 
 she knew to be guiltless of all the crimes with 
 which he was charged. 
 
 Through her darkest hours, five people had 
 stood faithfully by her. Jennie Bruce and 
 Jimmy, her father's old friend, Mr. MacLaren, 
 and last, but not least, her two humble friends,
 
 LIFE 265 
 
 Tessie and Dennis. Important changes had 
 taken place in this little group. For Jennie 
 and Jimmy, Tessie and Dennis, had been mar- 
 ried in the past year. 
 
 And now there was but one hope left. To- 
 day she and Mr. MacLaren were to go to Albany 
 to see the Governor, to make one last appeal. 
 
 This same morning Tessie O'Brien was busy 
 at her old desk at Stuyvesant and Company's 
 when she looked up to see a strange figure com- 
 ing in unannounced from the waiting-room out- 
 side. The man was fairly well dressed, but 
 Tessie noted his shifting eye and his extraor- 
 dinary pallor with inward disapproval. Be- 
 sides, he had no business walking in on her in 
 that fashion! 
 
 ' 'Well, who are you?' ' 
 
 4 'My name is Schmidt, Joe Schmidt." 
 
 "And what's your business!" 
 
 "Private and personal with Mr. Burnett." 
 
 "Well, there's a waiting-room outside full of 
 people with private and personal business. 
 Wait till I get hold of the office boy that let you 
 by!" 
 
 "All right, Miss. No offense, but I've got 
 business that will interest him on the level. 
 Will you give him this letter ? ' ' 
 
 "All right. Now the waiting-room for 
 yours!" 
 
 Joe bowed himself out. 
 
 She had been working busily for about five 
 minutes when O'Brien came in, and as usual
 
 266 LIFE 
 
 they talked on the one topic that absorbed them. 
 
 "Hello, hello!" said Tessie at the telephone. 
 "No, Mr. Burnett has not come in. Who's this! 
 Joe Schmidt! I told you I'd give him your 
 note!" 
 
 She hung up the receiver in indignation, 
 
 "What name was that?" 
 
 "Joe Schmidt. Some crank who's been writ- 
 ing letters and tryin' to see Mr. Burnett for 
 the last week. He's outside now." 
 
 "Tessie! Do you remember me tellin' you 
 of the man who was my pal before I turned 
 straight? That's Tiim T Joe Schmidt Dutch 
 Joe!" 
 
 "Dennis!" 
 
 "He's no four-flusher, Dutch Joe ain't. He 
 wouldn't be here without he had some good rea- 
 son. That's what we got to find out. Where's 
 that letter?" 
 
 "But, Dennis!" 
 
 His eye fell on the letter lying on the table. 
 Before Tessie could remonstrate further he had 
 torn it open. 
 
 1 1 Listen to this ! ' Mr. Burnett : I have a story 
 to tell that will interest you. It's about the' 
 Stuyvesant case. I'm down and out and des- 
 perate. Will you see me, or shall I go to some- 
 one else with my confession? The Man Who 
 Turned Off the Lights.' Well, what do you 
 think of that! Here! Put it in another en- 
 velope, quick. I hear the boss." 
 
 When Burnett came in, Tessie was fussing
 
 LIFE 267 
 
 with some papers and Dennis was busy dusting 
 the chairs. 
 
 "Anyone call me?" 
 
 "Only a man named Schmidt, sir." 
 
 "Don't know him. Tell him to write for an 
 appointment. ' ' 
 
 "He left this note, sir." 
 
 "All right." 
 
 He took the note carelessly and went on into 
 his office, which had once been Mr. Stuy- 
 vesant's private office. He had just begun to 
 open his mail, when Tessie came to say that 
 Miss Barresford was waiting, which was not 
 quite accurate, as Grace was almost on her heels. 
 
 "I'm very busy just now," began Burnett 
 irritably. 
 
 "Beg pardon, sir," said Tessie, "but the 
 Schmidt man won't go. Says you'll regret it if 
 you don't see him." 
 
 "Have him thrown out." 
 
 "He says to tell you it's about the Stuy- 
 vesant case." 
 
 Burnett swung his chair around so that 
 Tessie could not see his face. 
 
 "Oh, very well. Tell him to wait. I'll see 
 him later," he managed to say. 
 
 With a show of carelessness, Burnett picked 
 up Joe's note which he had thrown on his desk. 
 As he read it, a gray pallor spread itself over 
 his face. It is not good to see naked fear in 
 a man's face. Grace shuddered and turned 
 away her head.
 
 268 LIFE 
 
 After what seemed a long time, he shoved 
 the note under some papers as if it were of 
 little importance, and, getting up, began to pace 
 the floor in an effort to recover his self- 
 possession. 
 
 "What is it, Tom?" 
 
 "Nothing." 
 
 When his back was turned, she quietly 
 reached over for the letter and read it, her own 
 face blanching as she did so. He turned and 
 saw it in her hand. 
 
 ' ' How dare you read a private letter ! ' ' 
 
 "Hadn't you better tell me the truth, Tom?" 
 she said wearily. 
 
 "What do you mean?" 
 
 "Oh, I've felt from the first that Reid did 
 not kill Mr. Stuyvesant. I've wondered and 
 feared ! And now I find this note. Tell me the 
 truth, dear. Surely you can trust the woman 
 who loves you! Won't it be easier to have me 
 bear it with you?" 
 
 He sank into his chair and buried his face in 
 his hands for a moment. Presently he looked 
 up, and these two haggard creatures stared each 
 other in the face. The last few months had 
 played havoc with them both. 
 
 "Yes! I I did it!" His voice was sharply 
 staccato. 
 
 She gave a little moan, and came over and 
 stood with her arm about his shoulder. 
 
 "I didn't mean to do it, Grace, God knows 
 I didn't. But he had me. He knew everything.
 
 LIFE 269 
 
 He threatened me with prison. I went staring 
 mad ! And when I came to, he was lying there 
 on the floor dead! And the damned music in 
 the next room playing a waltz song ! * ' 
 
 "But this note?" 
 
 "There was someone else in the room. Some- 
 one switched off the light. That 's what's break- 
 ing me ! I could have stood the other the dead 
 man, but the other! The thought that there's 
 someone who can put me where I've put Reid! 
 And now it's come! It's come! Grace," he 
 said, holding out his arms appealingly, "what 
 am I to do!" 
 
 "Pull yourself together first, Tom!" She 
 patted his shoulder reassuringly. 
 
 "What's the use? I " 
 
 "You must," said Grace with decision. 
 ' * Who is this man ? If he knew, he never would 
 have waited so long. He says he's down and 
 out and desperate. Can the story of a man like 
 that hurt you, no matter how true it may be?" 
 
 "Would you see him?" 
 
 "Yes. But put him off. Stall him. Once 
 Reid's punished for the crime, his story '11 be 
 no good!" 
 
 "But until then?" 
 
 "You must keep him quiet " 
 
 "And if he won't?" 
 
 "Then there's just one thing to do." 
 
 At the look she gave him which pointed her 
 dreadful meaning, he fell to shuddering again. 
 
 "No, no! I won't do that! I can't!"
 
 270 LIFE 
 
 "You must," she said firmly. "And see him 
 now. Where can I go?" 
 
 "In there." He nodded toward a little room 
 opening out of his. "Come back in ten min- 
 utes." 
 
 "Careful!" she warned, as she went out, clos- 
 ing the door behind her. 
 
 Once alone, Burnett made an effort to pull 
 himself together. Drawing a long breath, he 
 lighted a fresh cigar and puffed it until it 
 glowed warmly. Opening a drawer in his desk, 
 he took from it a revolver, and, after examin- 
 ing it carefully, put it back, closed the drawer, 
 and rang for Tessie. 
 
 "Show the Schmidt man in." 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 When Joe came in he was making a pretense 
 of working at the desk. 
 
 "You sent this note?" 
 
 "Surest thing you know," said Joe genially. 
 
 "What does it mean?" 
 
 "You went to college. You can read, can't 
 you?" 
 
 "What do you want?" 
 
 "Money." 
 
 "What for?" 
 
 "Aw!" said Joe in disgust, "for manicuring 
 the Statue of Liberty ! You know what I want 
 it for. For saving a guy from sitting on that 
 little throne in Sing Sing. Nothin' less!" 
 
 ' ' You mean you want me to pay you for sav- 
 ing Beid's life?"
 
 LIFE 271 
 
 "I mean if you pay me, I save you. If he 
 pays me, I save him. I should worry!" 
 
 "That will do," said Burnett sharply. "If 
 you had any story to tell that would make any 
 difference, would a man like you have waited 
 a year to tell it? Eidiculous!" 
 
 "Oh, that's what's troublin' you, is it? Do 
 you know the answer ? I was detained." 
 
 "Prison, I'll wager." 
 
 "You guessed it," said Joe, perfectly un- 
 abashed. "An' I didn't see the use of dividin* 
 with a crook lawyer, when I knew I'd be out 
 in time to get it all myself. Get me ? ' ' 
 
 Burnett reached for the telephone. 
 
 "What are you doin'?" asked Joe, starting 
 to his feet. 
 
 "I'm going to call the police to take you for 
 attempted blackmail." 
 
 "You wouldn't do that to me? You 
 wouldn't!" 
 
 Joe simulated fear so well that Burnett was 
 completely deceived. 
 
 "You'll see." 
 
 "I ain't done nothin' to harm you, Mr. Bur- 
 nett. I don't want to hurt you. I'm just let 
 out of prison, a poor down-and-out. I need 
 money, that's all." 
 
 " Oh ! Then it 's charity you want ? ' ' 
 
 "Well, you might call it charity." 
 
 "Urn! That's different. Now, what is this 
 remarkable story?" 
 
 "I was in the room behind the window cur-
 
 272 LIFE 
 
 tain. I heard everything. I switched off the 
 light to " 
 
 "What were you doing there?" interrupted 
 Burnett. 
 
 "Come to rob the house." 
 
 He spoke of it as simply as if he had said that 
 he had come to get his umbrella. 
 
 "You damned crook!" 
 
 "Sure. You damned murderer!" 
 
 "What!" Burnett sprang to his feet sav- 
 agely. 
 
 For the first time Joe showed his teeth. 
 
 "I said it. What's the answer?" 
 
 The time to make his bluff had come, it 
 seemed to Burnett. 
 
 "This: The story of no convicted crook is 
 going to stand up in court. And I warn you 
 that the day you tell it you'll be arrested for 
 perjury." 
 
 "Oh, I know that a convicted felon's oath is 
 no good to save a man from the chair. But one 
 word from me to Mrs. Eeid, or her lawyers, and 
 they'll start an investigation that will ruin yoi, 
 and break down the case against Reid ; because 
 I have the record of your stealings in your own 
 handwriting the paper old man Stuyvesarit 
 dropped when you shot him to prove it." 
 
 It was Joe's turn to reach for the tele- 
 phone. 
 
 "What are you doing with that 'phone?" 
 
 "Nothin' much. Just goin' to call the cops 
 to make that pinch!" said Joe with a laugh
 
 LIFE 273 
 
 which changed into a snarl. "Now, what the 
 hell are you goin' to do about that?" 
 
 There was silence in the room for a minute 
 or two. Burnett's eyes fell before the other's 
 piercing gaze. With a jerk he had the drawer 
 of the desk open and his pistol in his hand. 
 But Joe was quicker than he. His pistol was 
 out of his pocket like a flash, covering Burnett. 
 
 " Drop it, Burnett ! Drop it !" 
 
 Sullenly Burnett obeyed. With an oath he 
 shoved the pistol to the back of the drawer, 
 and, closing it, locked it. 
 
 "If you want anything from me, you give 
 me that paper," he blustered. 
 
 "Nothin' doin'. This ain't cash on delivery. 
 This is delivery on cash." 
 
 "How much money do you want?" 
 
 "One hundred thousand dollars." 
 
 "Impossible!" 
 
 "Don't make me laugh! With a whole bank 
 to draw on? Besides, you've done it before." 
 
 "Suppose I pay you: how would I know that 
 you 'd stay bought ? ' ' 
 
 "My word, of course." 
 
 "That's great security!" 
 
 There was a long pause. 
 
 "All right. I '11 pay. You'll have to get out 
 of the country, though." 
 
 "I can stand it, if the country can. Where 
 do I go?" 
 
 "Mexico." 
 
 ' l Say ! I may be a crook, but I 'm no bandit. ' '
 
 274 LIFE 
 
 "The bank has some mines near Chihuahua. 
 You'll be paid through the Bank of Chihuahua. 
 Twenty-five thousand every three months and 
 you'll sign a receipt for it. Advance royalties 
 on your invention." 
 
 "Oh, I'm an inventor, am If" 
 
 "When you've got the last of your money 
 you can go wherever you wish." 
 
 "To hell, I suppose." 
 
 "Preferably!" 
 
 He crossed the room to a small safe, the door 
 of which was already open. With a key which 
 he took from his pocket he unlocked a drawer 
 and took out a roll of bills, which he counted 
 and handed to Joe, who counted it in his turn. 
 
 "Here! You said twenty-five thousand. 
 This is only five thousand." 
 
 "I'll pay you the rest in a few days. We'll 
 meet in some quiet place. Meantime, in case 
 I want you, where will I find you?" 
 
 "You won't find me. I'll meet you some- 
 where. I'll telephone you where and when." 
 
 Taking a not overclean handkerchief from 
 his pocket, Dutch Joe proceeded to tie up his 
 money in it, having left out a bill or two for 
 current expenses. Burnett had resumed his 
 march across the room, pausing to look out of 
 the window. Neither one of them saw Tessie, 
 who opened the door quietly and stood on the 
 threshold, note book in hand. 
 
 "I've got to have that paper when I pay you 
 the first twenty-five thousand."
 
 LIFE 275 
 
 He half turned and saw Tessie. 
 
 "Why don't you knock!" 
 
 "I thought I heard your bell, sir." 
 
 "Get out!" 
 
 "Yes, sir." Tessie vanished. 
 
 "You heard what I said about the paper?" 
 
 "Forget it, Bo! You'll get that paper when 
 you make the last payment, and not till then. 
 Well, s'long. Take care of your health. I'd 
 hate to hear you was sick," Joe grinned at him. 
 
 In the doorway he paused to utter a final 
 warning. 
 
 "Remember! Don't you try any double- 
 cross. If you do, you know what '11 happen. 
 S'long." 
 
 Burnett went to the door leading to the 
 other room and tapped on it sharply with a 
 key. 
 
 "Sorry to have kept you so long, darling." 
 
 "Well? Did you buy him off!" 
 
 "His price is too high. MacLaren is moving 
 Heaven and earth to force an investigation of 
 the bank's books. I wouldn't dare take a cent 
 more. ' ' 
 
 "Then, Tom, it's his life or yours. Did you 
 have him followed?" 
 
 "Never thought of it! But I've got just the 
 man. O'Brien's an ex-convict, but he's faith- 
 ful." 
 
 "Very well. Have this O'Brien follow him, 
 and then, when the time comes, you must " 
 
 "Did you ring, sir?" asked O'Brien.
 
 276 LIFE 
 
 "Yes. There's a man named Schmidt who 
 has just left me." 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "Do you know him?" 
 
 "Never saw him before, sir," lied O'Brien 
 easily. 
 
 * ' Do you think you could catch him I He can 't 
 have gone far. I want you to shadow him for 
 a few days without his suspecting it. ' ' 
 
 "Excuse me, sir." Dennis stepped past 
 Burnett to the window. "That's him, ain't it, 
 sir?" 
 
 He pointed to Dutch Joe, who, in common 
 with a number of others, had stopped to buy 
 an "extra" which half a dozen newsboys were 
 bawling through the street below. 
 
 "Yes. Shadow him. Let me know where 
 he goes, what he does, what sort of people he 
 talks to. Here " he handed him some bills 
 "handle this job well, and it will mean a good 
 deal to you. The man's an inventor. I'm 
 afraid he may take my money and try to sell to 
 someone else, too." 
 
 "I'm on!" said O'Brien, as he departed on 
 the run. 
 
 "I'll watch," said Grace. "He might look 
 up and see you." 
 
 She took her station at the window. Almost 
 immediately she gave a little nod of satisfac- 
 tion. Dutch Joe, still absorbed in his paper, 
 was moving slowly along the street, with 
 O'Brien, his coat collar turned up and his hat
 
 LIFE 277 
 
 slouched over Ms eye, only a few paces in the 
 rear. 
 
 Suddenly her expression changed. She threw 
 open the window. From below came the rau- 
 cous cry of the newsboys. 
 
 "Extry! Extry! Governor refuses to grani 
 wife 's prayer ! Bill Reid must die ! "
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 IN a large, handsome room on the second 
 story of the Stuyvesant house, Ruth was pacing 
 the floor, a look of determination on her pale 
 face. At that moment the likeness to her father 
 was striking. Dago Mike, in a dirty, shabby 
 old suit of clothes, sat huddled in an armchair, 
 occasionally holding out his not overclean 
 hands to the fire that blazed on the hearth. 
 
 "Then that is really all you know?" asked 
 Ruth, pausing in her restless walk. 
 
 "Yes, ma'm. I've told you everything.'* 
 
 "I'm going to give you a chance, Mike." 
 
 "A job?" 
 
 "And honest money." 
 
 "God!" said Mike with a tragic gesture, "it'll 
 be great to walk along the street again and look 
 a Bull in the eye without dodging!" 
 
 "Mr. MacLaren is below, Mrs. Reid," said a 
 servant. 
 
 "Show him up, please. Mike, go into the 
 other room until I send for you. ' ' 
 
 "Yes, ma'm." 
 
 "Ruth," said Mr. MacLaren at the door, 
 "I've brought Mr. Anderson with me. He was 
 at my house when your message came." 
 
 He came in, followed by Anderson. 
 
 ' ' Good evening, Mr. Anderson. ' ' 
 
 278
 
 LIFE 279 
 
 "Good evening, Mrs. Reid." 
 
 "You have told Mr. Anderson what we have 
 learned about the missing bonds!" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Doesn't that prove that my husband is the 
 victim of a conspiracy!" 
 
 "No, Mrs. Reid, it doesn't prove anything." 
 
 "Oh, you've believed him guilty from the 
 first!" said Ruth bitterly. "Suppose I prove 
 to you that there was another man in the 
 room?" 
 
 1 * You must show me. ' ' 
 
 "Mike, come here," said Ruth, opening a 
 door. 
 
 "Tell Mr. Anderson what you've told me." 
 
 "I'll tell you something first," said Ander- 
 son, glaring at the little pickpocket. "If you 
 were in that room, if anybody committed 
 the crime except the man convicted, you did 
 it." 
 
 "No, no, Chief! I ain't done nothin'. Hon- 
 est to God, I ain't!" cried Mike, all of his old 
 terror returning. 
 
 "Go on, Mike," said Ruth soothingly. 
 
 "Dutch Joe come to the place I was danc- 
 ing " 
 
 "Dutch Joe?" 
 
 "Yes. Dutch Joe-^Toe Schmidt." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 "He said if I didn't open the window for 
 him he'd get me." 
 
 "Why didn't you tell the police?"
 
 280 LIFE 
 
 11 Squeal? Say, you know what a squealer 
 gets!" 
 
 "Go on." 
 
 "I opened the window just before Mr. Stuy- 
 vesant come in. I got out quick, leavin' him 
 in the room and Dutch Joe behind the curtain. ' ' 
 
 ' < There ! You see ' ' began Euth. 
 
 "It sounds very plausible to me," said Mr. 
 MacLaren. 
 
 Anderson gave a harsh laugh. 
 
 "You poor, lyin' little crook! Dutch Joe 
 hasn't been in town for six years." 
 
 "Oh, hasn't he?" said a voice from the door. 
 And O'Brien and Tessie came into the room. 
 
 "You're wrong, Bull Anderson. Dutch Joe 
 at this minute is in Eoom 1410 at the McAlpin 
 Hotel, registered as Joseph Edwards." 
 
 "What? That's nonsense!" 
 
 "Is it?" laughed Dennis. "That boy's tell- 
 ing the truth. Dutch Joe was in the room when 
 Mr. Stuyvesant was murdered, and I've got his 
 own letter to prove it." 
 
 * ' Thank God ! Thank God ! ' ' Euth sank into 
 a chair and buried her face in her hands. 
 
 "Now, Bull Anderson," exulted O'Brien, 
 "maybe you'll believe at last that a crook can 
 tell the truth!" 
 
 Anderson's face flamed. 
 
 "I don't believe it! Not when you have to 
 depend on another squealing crook to back it. 
 Dago Mike, the pickpocket and cadet, and Kid 
 Wallace, the bank robber! A likely story! I
 
 LIFE 281 
 
 confess I thought at first this was only a dirty 
 plot cooked up by you, Mike, to get money out 
 of Mrs. Reid. But I see now that I was mis- 
 taken. 
 
 "I don't blame you, Mrs. Eeid," he went on 
 after a moment, in a more gentle tone. "It's 
 your husband's life you're fightin' for. And 
 I agree that a wife is justified in doin' 'most 
 anything, even if it is a little crooked. But I 
 am surprised at you" he turned on MacLaren 
 "stooping to this! Did you really believe that 
 the cooked-up testimony of these squealing rats 
 could save your man? Pah!" 
 
 "Do you mean to insinuate, Anderson, that 
 I " 
 
 "I don't insinuate anything, Mr. MacLaren. 
 Now, here are the facts. You bring " 
 
 "Facts!" broke in O'Brien angrily. "Why 
 the hell don't you stick to facts and get away 
 from your damned police theories? We've got 
 facts. That's what we're tryin' to give you. 
 Facts backed by a letter to prove 'em. You 
 don't want facts ! You're willin' to let the real 
 murderer go, and let an innocent man go to 
 the chair, just to save your reputation as a de- 
 tective ! ' ' 
 
 Anderson's face grew fairly murderous as 
 he listened to this tirade. For a second it 
 looked as if he were about to strike O'Brien 
 with his clenched fist. But the watchman never 
 flinched. With a great effort he recovered his 
 self-control.
 
 282 LIFE 
 
 * * I think you 're lyin ' all of you. I think it 's 
 a frame-up from beginning to end. I believe 
 Reid's guilty. But if you have one bit of tangi- 
 ble proof to back up this wild story, the whole 
 detective force is at your service. I'll work 
 day and night to get at the truth. All I want 
 is to have the guilty man punished. And I 
 guess my reputation can take care of itself!" 
 
 "Good for you!" said O'Brien. "Now, 
 Tessie O'Brien, go to it!" 
 
 "Well, what do you know?" asked Anderson. 
 
 "Oh, nothin' much," said Tessie coolly. 
 1 ' Only the man you call Dutch Joe and Mr. Bur- 
 nett were shut up in his private office for nearly 
 twenty minutes this morning. And " 
 
 "You're sure of that?" 
 
 "Yes, sir. And when I happened to come in 
 suddenly, Joe was tyin' up a big roll of bills in 
 his handkerchief and I heard him say: 'You'll 
 get that paper when you pay me the last pay- 
 ment, and not till then.' " 
 
 1 ' Paper ? What paper t ' * 
 
 "Can't say, sir. But I guess this note from 
 Dutch Joe to Burnett has somethin' to do with 
 it." 
 
 "Did Dutch Joe write this? It's not even 
 signed." 
 
 "No, sir. Mr. Burnett tore his note up. But 
 Dutch Joe gave it to me, and Dennis and me 
 both read it. That's a true copy. I'll swear 
 to that." 
 
 "And I guess she's no crook! " crowed
 
 LIFE 283 
 
 O'Brien, his face beaming with triumph. Euth 
 hurried over to Anderson's side and began to 
 read the note which he held in his hand. 
 
 " 'Will you see me, or shall I go to someone 
 
 else with my confession ' You hear, Mr. 
 
 Anderson? He wants to make a confession. 
 Now are you convinced!" 
 
 '"The Man Who Turned Off the Lights,' " 
 finished Anderson. 
 
 "Well, Bull, what do you think of that!" de- 
 manded Dennis. 
 
 ' * The man must have been in the room, just as 
 Mike says," Ruth's voice was once more full of 
 hope. 
 
 1 'And Burnett and this man are working to- 
 gether. You must agree to that," urged Mr. 
 MacLaren. 
 
 "You can't accuse Mr. Burnett of this crime. 
 Remember, he accounted for every second of his 
 time that night. Besides, there's no motive." 
 
 "I believe he'd shield the real murderer," 
 said Ruth positively. 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 "He hates my husband so!" 
 
 "Who's the administrator of your father's 
 estate?" 
 
 "He is." 
 
 ' ' Oh. Has an accounting been rendered ? ' ' 
 
 "He says there hasn't been time." 
 
 "I'd attend to that, if I were you," said An- 
 derson grimly. 
 
 "I'll see to that," said MacLaren.
 
 284 LIFE 
 
 "As to this other story, it's too far-fetched, 
 too wild. Any court would laugh at it. Unless 
 you can prove that Burnett is deeply, vitally 
 interested in Dutch Joe the whole story isn't 
 worth the powder " 
 
 "Can I use the 'phone? " asked O'Brien ex- 
 'citedly. 
 
 "Certainly." 
 
 "Can a call from here be traced?" 
 
 "No," said Ruth. "It's my private num- 
 ber." 
 
 ' ' Good ! Give me 6478 Plaza. ' ' 
 
 :; That's Tom's private number," explained 
 Euth. 
 
 "Come closer, Bull, come closer! You 
 mustn't miss this." 
 
 "6478? This is O'Brien to speak to Mr. Bur- 
 nett. 
 
 "He's gettin' him," he explained, his hand 
 over the mouth of the telephone. 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Burnett? This is 'Brien. Wanted 
 to make my report on Dutch Joe. Beg pardon, 
 sir. I won't use his name again. Followed our 
 party to Smith, Gray & Co. He bought a suit, 
 and changed in store. Went from there over 
 to the Avenue. Stopped a long while near the 
 Stuyvesant house. No, sir, I'm sure. I know 
 the house well. I couldn't be mistaken. Bang 
 bell and asked for Mrs. Reid. Positive, sir. 
 Came away without leavin' his name. Then 
 went to McAlpin Hotel. Registered Joseph 
 Edwards, Room 1410. Called up Mrs. Reid on
 
 LIFE 285 
 
 public 'phone. Left word Mr. Edwards called 
 her on important, confidential business. Sure, 
 sir. I was in the next booth and heard him. 
 You may rest easy, sir, I'll see he doesn't get 
 to Mrs. Keid. Oh, thank you, sir ! " 
 
 He hung up the receiver and glanced excitedly 
 around. 
 
 "If that's all true, and there's anything 
 crooked between Burnett and Dutch Joe, he'll 
 call up Mrs. Eeid before many minutes," said 
 Anderson positively. 
 
 As if to prove his words, the telephone rang 
 on the instant. 
 
 4 ' There ! ' ' said Euth, starting forward. 
 
 "One moment, Mrs. Eeid. Be good enough to 
 have the servant answer it." 
 
 "Jenkins!" called Euth. 
 
 A footman appeared from the hall. 
 
 "The 'phone, Jenkins, please." 
 
 "I don't know, Miss," said Jenkins at the 
 'phone. Then turning to Euth, he said : 
 
 "She wants to know if you're through with 
 the party, ma'am." 
 
 Euth nodded her head. She could not trust 
 herself to speak. 
 
 "Your story's interesting, but hardly con- 
 clusive, O'Brien," said Anderson. 
 
 The telephone rang again. Jenkins, who had 
 just reached the door, came back at a sign from 
 Euth. 
 
 "Eingin' off again, probably," said Ander- 
 son, turning away.
 
 286 LIFE 
 
 "I told you that " began Jenkins impor- 
 tantly. "Oh, beg pardon, sir. Yes, sir, 
 Mr. Burnett, this is Jenkins, sir. I'll see, 
 sir." 
 
 ' ' Very well, Jenkins. ' ' Ruth snatched the re- 
 ceiver from his hand. 
 
 "Hello, hello! Oh, hello, Tom! Do I sound 
 cheerful? I feel so, for some reason or other. 
 You sound excited. What's the matter?" 
 There was a long pause. "Oh, yes. A man did 
 call up and left the name of Edwards. Yes, I 
 was at home, but I didn't know him, so of 
 course I sent word I was out. Really? Thank 
 you for warning me. Good-by." 
 
 She hung up the receiver. 
 
 "What do you think now, Mr. Anderson!" 
 
 "Quick!" said Anderson, without paying any 
 attention to her. "He may get his man at the 
 McAlpin!" 
 
 "Oh, no, he won't!" laughed O'Brien. 
 "Dutch Joe ain't there any more. He's moved. 
 You didn't think I'd tell everything I knew, did 
 you, Bull?" 
 
 "Mrs. Reid!" said Anderson, turning to her 
 and holding out his hand frankly, "I'm licked! 
 I've got to say something that I never thought 
 I'd have to say to anyone: I've helped convict 
 an innocent man. I only hope to God I can save 
 him!" 
 
 "I'll go to the Governor again the first thing 
 in the morning," said Mr. MacLaren. 
 
 "No good. Without the original of that note,
 
 LIFE 287 
 
 you haven't a leg to stand on. They'd only 
 say," he said, turning again to Ruth, "that it 
 was an eleventh-hour trick to save your hus- 
 band by perjured testimony." 
 
 "The District Attorney, then." 
 
 "He'd laugh in your face!" 
 
 "What can we do ? Don 't tell me that you are 
 going to do nothing, now that you say you be- 
 lieve in my husband's innocence!" 
 
 "There's just one chance: Schmidt." 
 
 "Schmidt?" 
 
 "Yes. We've got to get him. Break him! 
 Make him confess!" 
 
 "But how?" 
 
 He turned on 'Brien. 
 
 "You know him: what's his weakness 
 booze?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Dope?" 
 
 "Never." 
 
 "Women?" 
 
 "Laughs at 'em." 
 
 "What then?" 
 
 "He's hasn't got but one: gamblin'. And, 
 like all gamblers, he's superstitious." 
 
 "He is, is he?" 
 
 "Never turns a trick except on lucky, odd- 
 number days. And he always runs the cards 
 first, or tries a fortune-teller." 
 
 "Good! We've got him!" 
 
 "How?" 
 
 "What are you going to do?"
 
 288 LIFE 
 
 "I'm goin' to get a confession out of Mm, 
 that's what!" 
 
 "But how?" 
 
 "Through his superstition. You, O'Brien, 
 get in touch with him, and by Monday get him 
 to go to see Madame Clarice, the great spirit- 
 ualist and psychic." 
 
 'Brien nodded his comprehension. 
 
 "We '11 be there!" 
 
 "And you, Mrs. Eeid," said Anderson, turn- 
 ing to Ruth, "can you manage to get your 
 friends together and have them attend? Par- 
 ticularly your brother Ralph and Burnett. The 
 more the merrier." 
 
 "Of course I will. But who is Madame 
 Clarice? I never heard of her." 
 
 "No, but you will. I'm goin' to be her man- 
 ager. All New York will hear of her by Mon- 
 day. The detective force is goin' into the for- 
 tune-tellin' business, and goin' in in style!" 
 
 And, with a boyish laugh, he hurried away.
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 IT was Monday night. Ruth was in a fever 
 of expectation. Mad as Anderson's plan for 
 entrapping Joe seemed, she would not allow 
 herself to doubt for a moment of its being suc- 
 cessful and bringing her father's death home 
 to the real murderer. But she acknowledged to 
 herself that she was nearing the end of her own 
 endurance. 
 
 She had almost lived at the telephone for the 
 last few days, waiting for reports from Jennie 
 Jones, who was rounding up as many of her 
 friends as possible for the coming seance, and 
 from O'Brien, who was meeting with unex- 
 pected difficulties in persuading his old pal to 
 consult this new oracle, whose name shone from 
 all the billboards in New York. 
 
 Getting in touch with Joe had been an easy 
 matter. Dressed in a new and flashy suit of 
 clothes, of which Tessie strongly disapproved, 
 Dennis had run into him in the corridor of his 
 hotel, to their mutual pleasure and satisfaction. 
 The meeting once accomplished, they had spent 
 most of their time together, talking over old 
 times and old adventures up in Joe's room. But 
 although Joe seemed to be entirely unsus- 
 picious, he betrayed a curious reticence as to 
 anything that he had "on," contenting himself
 
 290 LIFE 
 
 with dark hints that he might find it profitable 
 to take a trip shortly. 
 
 But he read everything in the papers about 
 the state of Mexico, and frequently voiced the 
 opinion that it wasn't a country for a dog to 
 live in. O'Brien could see that something was 
 troubling him. Finally, by dint of "playing 
 up" the subject of Mexico and its outlawed 
 state, he got Joe to admit that he had some 
 thoughts of going there for a stay of some dura- 
 tion, if only he could satisfy himself that it 
 would be safe. After that, it was a compara- 
 tively easy matter to persuade him to consult 
 the celebrated Madame Clarice, the chief 
 trouble being that, for some unexplained reason, 
 Joe was loath to go on the all-important 
 evening when his presence was so ardently 
 desired. 
 
 O'Brien, of course, feared to be too insistent, 
 and it was only a short hour before the time 
 set for the seance that he was able to telephone 
 Ruth that she could count on their being there. 
 
 An hour before the seance was advertised to 
 begin, Anderson, accompanied by several de- 
 tectives in plain clothes, arrived to consult with 
 Clarice and see that no hitch could occur in his 
 arrangements. 
 
 Clarice's "studio" was a large, bare, Gothic 
 room, with several windows of a bluish glass. 
 It contained a number of chairs, a cabinet on 
 a platform, two or three tables of various sizes 
 in short, the usual equipment of people of her
 
 LIFE 291 
 
 profession. There was a large fireplace with 
 a gas log, behind which red, blue and green elec- 
 tric bulbs were concealed, which the medium 
 could turn on at her pleasure whenever she 
 wished to produce a particularly ghastly effect 
 from her place on the platform. 
 
 Madame Clarice was a large, magnetic, im- 
 posing woman with an elaborate coiffure of 
 blond hair and prominent eyes. She was 
 dressed in a heavy, lustrous black silk gown with 
 a long train. Her bodice was extremely decol- 
 lete, and she wore many bracelets and rings, 
 with a dog collar of immense diamonds, which 
 would have been worth a king's ransom had 
 they been real, around her throat. She watched 
 Anderson's every movement with a coldly sus- 
 picious eye. 
 
 ''Put two men at the door. I want some of 
 you in here as cappers. Are the windows fas- 
 tened?" 
 
 "Locked 'em myself, dearie," remarked Ma- 
 dame Clarice without the look of affection that 
 one might have expected to accompany the term 
 of endearment. 
 
 ''The chimney's all right. He ain't no Santy 
 Claus," said Anderson, after examining it for 
 himself. "Now, remember, this Schmidt is a 
 desperate guy. Don't take any chances. 
 
 "Well!" he said, apparently satisfied with 
 his inspection, "if he gets out of here now he'll 
 deserve it. How about it, Clarice, can you put 
 it over?"
 
 292 LIFE 
 
 "Can a baby cry?" asked Clarice in her tarn. 
 
 "Kemember, if you don't !" 
 
 "Oh, I know, dearie. If I don't, you'll have 
 your bulls run me out of town as a fakir. 
 There ain't no such thing as justice in this 
 world!" 
 
 "If you ain't a fakir, what are you!" 
 
 "Oh, I'm one, all right." 
 
 "Guess we understand each other." 
 
 "Yes, dear. Both members of this club." 
 
 "Kemember this is a desperate case. There's 
 only one way to break this murderer. Bring 
 him face to face with the dead." 
 
 "I get yer." 
 
 "Where's the man who is to play old Stuy- 
 vesantf" 
 
 "He's making up for the part now." 
 
 "I want to see him." 
 
 "Bil-ly! .Bil-ly! Here!" 
 
 "Yes, ma'am," came a voice from somewhere 
 in back of the cabinet. 
 
 A thin, flashily dressed young man came 
 slowly down to Madame Clarice. In one hand 
 he carried a make-up box and a false mustache, 
 in the other a made-up cravat and a standing 
 collar, slightly soiled. 
 
 "There he is," said Clarice in a bored tone. 
 
 Anderson looked at him in astonishment. 
 
 "You the man who's goin' to act Stuyvesant 
 in the seance? Why, you don't look anything 
 like him. You're too skinny and too young, and 
 your voice isn't anything like his."
 
 LIFE 293 
 
 "Just wait till I get through making up. 
 Here, hold this, will you?" 
 
 Clarice obligingly held the mirror which he 
 took from his jacket pocket. From another 
 pocket he produced a white wig which he ad- 
 justed with a few deft pats. Propping the 
 make-up box on a chair, he seemed to Anderson, 
 to whom he still offered the view of his back, 
 to make a few rapid passes with the various 
 pencils which the box contained. Another min- 
 ute to fasten on the false mustache, and he 
 turned round. 
 
 "How's that?" 
 
 In all its deathly pallor, it was the face of 
 Mr. Stuyvesant as he had last seen it. 
 
 "Well, I'll be damned!" said Anderson. 
 
 The artist understood the tribute, and bowed. 
 
 "The only thing is you're too skinny. You 
 can't fill out the clothes." 
 
 "Oh, I'll fix that," said Billy easily. 
 
 He reached under his arm and drew out a 
 long rubber tubp. Putting the end in his mouth, 
 he blew into it slowly and steadily, and his 
 stomach swelled as he blew. When he judged 
 it to be the proper size, he looked to Anderson 
 for approval, raising his eyebrows slightly, so 
 as not to disarrange his make-up. 
 
 ' ' That 's enough. Have you got the clothes ! ' ' 
 
 "Yes, they're back there." 
 
 "Well, be careful of 'em. It's the suit Mr. 
 Stuyvesant had on when he was murdered, and 
 it's evidence."
 
 294 LIFE 
 
 "The ones he had on when he was murdered? 
 Gee! I don't care for that. It's creepy!" 
 
 "You're playin' a ghost, ain't you?" 
 
 "Sure. But there ain't no call for bein' so 
 damned realistic. I don't like it." 
 
 "He'll do," approved Anderson. 
 
 "One of my best," said Clarice carelessly. 
 
 "You've got everything just right?" 
 
 "Sure and I have, dearie. If you don't be- 
 lieve it, take a look in there. I've got my little 
 girl and my little boy, my widow, my old man, 
 two broken-hearted lovers all the stock spirits 
 and a couple of extras. This is goin' to be 
 some seance ! ' ' 
 
 An elderly woman, dressed in rusty black, 
 came in at that minute and took her place in 
 the front row of seats. 
 
 1 ' Good ev 'ning to you, ' ' she said meekly. 
 
 "Here, you, Carrie," said Clarice with some 
 asperity, "you ain't half mournful enough! 
 And the last time when the lights dimmed you 
 went to sleep right in the middle of my best 
 spiel. I ain't forgot it, Miss. Now if " 
 
 "I know, Clarice," Carrie hastened to admit, 
 "but I'll be a great mourner this 1 time. I got 
 such a lovely cold in my head." 
 
 And she proceeded to illustrate her fitness for 
 her role by sniffing loudly an inordinate number 
 of times. 
 
 "Who's she?" 
 
 "Head capper. How do you think we'd run 
 without cappers?"
 
 LIFE 295 
 
 "And you've got the dope on all the people 
 who are coming and what they look like?" 
 
 "Got it here," said Clarice, tapping her fore- 
 head. And closing her eyes, she chanted in a 
 high, colorless voice, parrot fashion: "Andrews 
 and wife, old people: been to police to find 
 daughter; Joe Schmidt and O'Brien: advise 
 against Mexico trouble, and manifestations; 
 Burnett and Stuyvesant " 
 
 "0. K. I'll go now, and come back when you 
 dim down the lights. Now, remember, it's the 
 Tombs if you fail!" 
 
 "I'll remember, dearie. Nobody forgets the 
 Tombs, you know. Gee! What a disposition!" 
 she said to herself as she went behind the cur- 
 tains. 
 
 A few people began to come straggling in; 
 among them Jimmy Jones and Jennie. 
 
 "Let's get a front seat, Jimmy." 
 
 "N-n-no; we'll sit back here," said Jimmy, 
 starting for the rear. 
 
 "But I want to sit up close," protested 
 Jennie. 
 
 "M-m-mebbe you d-d-do, I don't. I'd r-r- 
 rather have a seat out in the in the m-m-middle 
 of the n-n-n-next street ! ' ' 
 
 "I'm ashamed of you, Jimmy. You're afraid 
 of the spirits!" 
 
 "I I I'm not a-afraid of 'em. But I don't 
 w-w-w-want to k-k-kiss 'm, either ! ' ' 
 
 ' ' Nonsense, Jimmy. This is a perfectly won- 
 derful medium. Euth Keid told me all about
 
 296 LIFE 
 
 her. You've got to stay and see it out. If you 
 get frightened, I'll I'll hold you." 
 
 At this moment the lights, which had grad- 
 ually been getting dimmer and dimmer, changed 
 to an unpleasant hue, caused by Clarice turn- 
 ing on the blue ones from the fireplace. More 
 people were coming in from time to time ; among 
 them Tom Andrews and Nora, closely followed 
 by Dutch Joe and 'Brien. 
 
 "I'm wonderin' what Father Kelly would 
 think of our comin' here, Tom," said Nora in 
 a troubled tone. 
 
 "I can't help whether the father would like 
 it or not. He's prayed for her and he can't 
 find her. And the police have looked for her 
 and they can't find her. And the place she said 
 she worked never heard of her. I'll try any- 
 thing to get some news of her and get her 
 back!" 
 
 * * Jimmy ! Jimmy ! ' ' said Jennie in great ex- 
 citement, "isn't that your old trainer, Mr. An- 
 drews?" 
 
 "Sh sh !" 
 
 "What's the matter? Why don't you call 
 him over?" 
 
 "I don't want h-h-him to k-k-know that I'm 
 fool enough to c-c-come here!" 
 
 Joe and Dennis had found seats on the end 
 of the very back row. Joe was apparently not 
 at all at ease. He kept moving about and clear- 
 ing his throat. 
 
 "Say, Kid, this dump's creepy!"
 
 LIFE 297 
 
 "Cheese it, Dutch, you'll worry the spirits." 
 
 "I won't worry them if they don't worry me. 
 Say, Kid, they don't do nothin' to you, do 
 they?" 
 
 "Who?" 
 
 "The spirits." 
 
 Several people the place was now rapidly 
 filling up moved restlessly and glared at Joe 
 to keep silence. 
 
 "Hush! Hush! Hush!" 
 
 "All right," said Joe, "have it your own 
 way." 
 
 He kept silent for nearly a minute. 
 
 "Say, Kid." 
 
 "What?" 
 
 "Do you guess she can tell us how it's goin' 
 to turn out?" 
 
 "She told me a week ago I was goin' to meet 
 you." 
 
 "ShedwZF Herself?" 
 
 "Sure she did." 
 
 "Well, I don't mind what she tells me her- 
 self. But if she brings in any dead ones fo 
 tell me, I'm goin' to leave, and I'm goin' to 
 leave sudden!" 
 
 "Sh sh! Hush!" 
 
 "Gee, this is a peevish bunch!" 
 
 "If you don't keep quiet they'll give you your 
 money back and put you out." 
 
 "Give me my money back! Don't make me 
 laugh. This is New York. They don't give 
 you anything back ! ' '
 
 298 LIFE 
 
 The lights began to grow dimmer and 
 dimmer. From far away a bell struck mourn- 
 fully two or three times. There was a sigh of 
 expectation from the crowd. Suddenly a sort 
 of ghostly light appeared over their heads. 
 There was a roar of thunder. Lightning seemed 
 to flash from side to side of the room. The 
 walls shivered and parted, and for a moment 
 dim ghostly figures appeared and vanished on 
 the instant. A table rose and floated about the 
 room over the heads of the audience. From 
 nowhere, a hair-raising voice slowly demanded : 
 
 ' ' What do you want with me ! ' ' 
 
 "Nothin'I Nothin' at all, Mister! Honest!" 
 Dutch Joe assured the spirit in a choking voice. 
 
 The table dropped back to its place in front 
 of the watchers. The lights came on once more. 
 Madame Clarice was seen standing on the plat- 
 form. Everything was once more calm and 
 serene with the exception of a few nervous 
 spectators who displayed unmistakable signs of 
 having passed through a disconcerting experi- 
 ence. 
 
 Jimmy, with one foot on the seat of his chair 
 and the other thrown over the back, was only 
 prevented from seeking the seat of his choice 
 in the middle of the next street by Jennie's 
 detaining hands on his coat tails. Mrs. An- 
 drews was on her knees, her back to the plat- 
 form, while Tom gripped his chair so tightly 
 that his hands were white. Dutch Joe was 
 lying flat on the floor, with a gun in each hand,
 
 LIFE 299 
 
 a circumstance which in the general absorption 
 fortunately escaped notice. But it was with 
 considerable difficulty that O'Brien prevailed 
 upon him to restore his weapons to his pocket 
 and resume his seat. 
 
 When order seemed to be completely restored, 
 Madame Clarice remarked pleasantly: 
 
 "Friends, I think that the dear spirits are in 
 a good humor to-night.'* 
 
 "I-I-I'd h-h-hate to s-s-see 'em mad!" com- 
 mented Jimmy. 
 
 The table began to waltz slowly about. 
 
 "Be quiet, Ellen, let that table alone !" ad- 
 monished the medium. 
 
 "Excuse me, Mrs.," said Joe, "but did Ellen 
 do all that just now?" 
 
 "Yes, that was all little Ellen's work." 
 
 "She's some female!" said Joe sincerely. 
 "Come on, Kid. Don't let's wait for de men 
 spirits!" 
 
 "Cheese!" expostulated O'Brien. 
 
 At that moment Burnett, accompanied by 
 Ealph and Anna, came in. 
 
 "Let no one speak, and let no more enter," 
 commanded the medium. At once she assumed 
 her most professional manner. 
 
 "Friends, we're sittin' here to-night with the 
 glorious hope of perhaps welcomin' back to our 
 sorrowin' midst those happy faces that has al- 
 ready gone over into the glorious beyond. Now, 
 friends, will you kindly sit still, and all of you 
 hold hands to establish the psychic circuit.
 
 300 LIFE 
 
 Also, if you hold hands, there won't be no 
 chance for one of you to get crazy an' try to 
 kiss a spook. Spooks wasn't made to be kissed. 
 An' there's no tellin' what might happen. 
 Gawd knows it's hard enough to be a medium 
 without people tryin' to kiss your spooks ! I'm 
 about to give a seance made up of clairvoyance, 
 physical manifestations and materializations. 
 And kindly remember that I'm in a trance and 
 don't know anything about what I may say or 
 do. I'm only the poor human funnel through 
 which the spirits flow. Now, we'll start the 
 seance with our Spirit Hymn." 
 
 She began to sing in a high, shrill voice. All 
 the cappers, who were of course familiar with 
 the doggerel, joined in. Soon everybody was 
 singing Dutch Joe loudest of all. 
 
 "We are waitin', 
 We are waitin', 
 We are waitin' just now; 
 Just now we are waitin', 
 We are waitin' just now. 
 
 Show your faces, 
 
 Show your faces, 
 
 Show your faces just now! 
 
 Just now show your faces, 
 
 Show your faces just now! " 
 
 With a dramatic gesture, she threw open the 
 doors of the cabinet. 
 
 "You see, dear friends, it's empty." 
 
 "Here I am!" piped a childish voice. 
 
 "That voice!" exclaimed the capper in wid- 
 ow's weeds.
 
 LIFE 301 
 
 "And who are you?" inquired the medium. 
 
 "I'm little Billy." 
 
 "And what do you want, little Billy?" 
 
 "I don't like to tell you!" said little Billy 
 bashfully. 
 
 "Please tell us." 
 
 "No." 
 
 "You must." 
 
 "All right. I want to raise hell, and I'm go- 
 ing to!" 
 
 Instantly the room became black again, and 
 again the thunder rolled and the lightning 
 flashed. The walls seemed to part and come to- 
 gether again, there was a red glare followed by 
 a ghostly light, and a smell of burning sulphur. 
 Out from behind the fireplace danced a troop 
 of figures, carrying pitchforks whose phos- 
 phorus-covered bodies gleamed in the ghastly 
 light. The table danced once more. Tam- 
 bourines and banjos were heard playing from 
 the cabinet. There was a sound of mocking, 
 childish laughter. 
 
 And then, just as suddenly, the dancing fig- 
 ures disappeared, the tables became stationary, 
 all sounds ceased, and the lights came on again. 
 With a flourish Madame Clarice threw open the 
 cabinet and showed it to be empty. 
 
 "Come on, Bo, I'm goin'!" said Joe, getting 
 to his feet with an air of decision. "If women 
 can shake this damned house, and kids open the 
 gates of hell, I'll be damned if I wait for the 
 men. This ain't no place for yours truly."
 
 302 LIFE 
 
 "Cut it out, Joe. They ain't hurtin' you. 
 Wait, we'll ask her now." 
 
 "You must stop talkin', or you'll break the 
 circle," admonished Clarice. "I feel a feelin' 
 of clairvoyance stealin' over me!" she went on. 
 "I hope what I say won't offend no gent nor 
 lady. Eemember, I'm only the poor human fun- 
 nel through which the spirits flow!" 
 
 After passing her hands a number of times 
 across her forehead, her whole figure became 
 rigid. There was a moment's pause. Then, in 
 a far-away, dead voice, she began : 
 
 "There is a man and a woman here with us 
 to-night, an old man and an old woman who is 
 in trouble. He is a strong man, and be has 
 some thin' to do with boats. When I see him, 
 I see men rowin'. His first name is Tom. I'll 
 give his last name, if he wants me to." 
 
 "I ain't never been ashamed of my name, 
 ma'am," said honest Tom. 
 
 "You are lookin' for your daughter, Mister." 
 
 "Yes, ma'am: that's what her mother an' me 
 come to New York for." 
 
 "She is not as she was when she first left 
 you. She is in great danger. She has another 
 name. Look on the eighth floor of a big, white 
 apartment house on Madison Avenue between 
 Fortieth and Fiftieth Streets." 
 
 Ralph uttered a slight exclamation, but was 
 checked by the glance that Burnett gave in the 
 direction of his wife. 
 
 "What do you make of it?" whispered Ralph.
 
 LIFE 303 
 
 "I'm not sure yet. W:ut a bit." 
 
 * * Thank you, ma 'am. We 're goin ' now, ' ' said 
 Tom. And supporting his sobbing wife, he left 
 the room. 
 
 "Join hands again, and close the psychic cir- 
 cle!" commanded Madame Clarice. 
 
 "The current is gettin' stronger! I can feel 
 it, I can feel it!" she said in a sort of ecstasy. 
 "There is a spirit strugglin' to make hisself 
 known!" 
 
 "There's somethin' in this, Kid," whispered 
 Joe. "She got the dope right on that old guy. 
 He was real. He wasn't no capper." 
 
 "Hush!" 
 
 "It is a new spirit that has not yet learned 
 how to communicate. How he struggles! I 
 feel it here in my heart ! It has a wrong that 
 must be set right. What ! ' ' Her voice took on 
 a tone of horror. There was a long pause, 
 while she appeared to listen intently. 
 
 "It is the spirit of one who was murdered! 
 What name? What? Can you understand? 
 Can't you speak through me?" Another long 
 pause. 
 
 "Can you make yourself known by rapping, 
 then? Eap three times for 'yes,' once for 'no.' 
 Will that do?" 
 
 Three loud, solemn raps were heard. 
 
 "Were you murdered?" 
 
 Again the three raps. 
 
 "By a woman?" 
 
 The spirit denied this in one vigorous rap.
 
 304 LIFE 
 
 "A man?" 
 
 Three raps. 
 
 " Has lie been convicted ? ' ' 
 
 Three raps. 
 
 "Sentenced?" 
 
 Three raps. 
 
 "To imprisonment?" 
 
 One rap. 
 
 "Then he has been sentenced to death!" 
 
 Three raps. 
 
 " Is he guilty?" 
 
 One rap. 
 
 "Then he is innocent?" 
 
 Three raps. 
 
 "Have you come to save him?" 
 
 Three raps. 
 
 "Can you tell us the name you bore in this 
 life?" 
 
 , There was a long and impressive pause. 
 Then, in a voice which was a marvel of imita- 
 tion, came the reply. 
 
 "I was William Van Eennsselaer Stuy- 
 vesant ! ' ' 
 
 "My father!" said Ralph in a terrified shriek. 
 
 "Good God!" said Burnett under his breath. 
 
 "That's him! That's the old man's voice," 
 came Joe's horrified confirmation. 
 
 But Burnett had recovered his nerve. "This 
 must stop ! I protest against this humbug. I'll 
 call the police!" 
 
 ' ' Sit down, Burnett ! ' ' commanded Anderson. 
 In the darkness, unseen by anyone, he had taken
 
 LIFE 305 
 
 a chair immediately behind Burnett, where he 
 could watch Joe 's every movement. 
 
 "Mr. Stuyvesant, where is the real mur- 
 derer!" moaned the medium, as if she were 
 about to faint under the strain to which she was 
 subjecting herself. 
 
 "He is here!" came the awful voice from the 
 cabinet. 
 
 1 ' Can you show yourself and confront him I ' ' 
 
 In answer to this question, the thunder 
 crashed once more and all the lights went out, 
 leaving the hall in utter blackness. In another 
 moment, two greenish-white lights appeared. 
 One hovered above the terrified assembly until 
 it hung over the unconscious head of Dutch 
 Joe, for the moment fairly paralyzed with su- 
 perstitious terror. The other lit up the doors 
 of the cabinet, which opened to disclose the 
 counterfeit presentment of the late Mr. Stuy- 
 vesant, wearing the clothes he had worn on the 
 night of the murder. A ghastly crimson stain 
 could be seen on his left side in the region of 
 the heart. 
 
 Ealph's voice rattled in his throat. 
 
 " It is my father!" 
 
 "The clothes he wore when " whispered 
 
 Burnett, half to himself. 
 
 "God! The old man himself! Just as he 
 looked ! ' ' shrieked Joe. 
 
 "Point out the murderer!" commanded 
 Clarice. 
 
 Slowly that dreadful arm came up, the fore-
 
 306 LIFE 
 
 finger of the hand extended. For a dreadful 
 moment the eyes seemed to search the room. 
 Then, suddenly, the arm shot out straight, the 
 finger pointing to the cowering Joe. 
 
 1 'It's a lie! a lie! Ididn'tdoit! Iwasthere! 
 I saw it! But I didn't do it! The real mur- 
 derer is " 
 
 With a rush, Anderson and two other detec- 
 tives made for him. 
 
 " Joseph Schmidt, I arrest you for the mur- 
 der of William Van Eennsselaer Stuyvesant!" 
 shouted Anderson. 
 
 Amid the screams and cries that pierced the 
 darkness which had once more fallen could be 
 heard the sounds of a struggle, and then the 
 noise of crashing glass. 
 
 ' ' Lights ! Lights ! ' ' yelled Anderson. 
 
 The lights came on to show a scene of the 
 wildest confusion and the shattered glass of 
 one of the rear windows. 
 
 "My God, he's escaped!" yelled Anderson.
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 IT was five o'clock Christmas morning. 
 Along the streets leading to Saint Patrick's 
 people were hurrying to Mass. In front of the 
 Cathedral, and standing on the steps near the 
 door, were grouped a number of beggars and 
 fakirs making the most of the latitude allowed 
 them on this day, hoping to cajole money from 
 the tide of worshipers whose hearts were pre- 
 sumably softened at this season. 
 
 Either because they had exhausted the field, 
 or because they judged it would be more profita- 
 ble to work the side streets ; meeting the crowds 
 before they reached the church, they had nearly 
 all moved off when Dutch Joe, wearing a long, 
 black overcoat and a cap well pulled over his 
 eyes, came round the corner so suddenly that 
 he nearly collided with an old beggar woman 
 who cursed him with fervor. 
 
 "Here! Don't yell before you're hurt!" re- 
 monstrated Joe, looking fearfully around. He 
 reached in his pocket and took out a half dollar. 
 
 "I'm lookin' for a swell guy with a smooth 
 face and a fur coat. Seen him?" 
 
 "No, I ain't seen nobody like him. I'll watch 
 out if you want me to," she said, her eyes fast- 
 ened greedily on the money. 
 
 "No, never mind. I'll take a little walk my- 
 
 307
 
 308 LIFE 
 
 self an' come back. Guess I'm early. Here 
 you are, though, for luck." He dropped the 
 coin into her outstretched hand and hurried 
 away. The woman went on. 
 
 Around the corner opposite from the one Joe 
 had taken came two young men who showed the 
 effects of a Christmas Eve too hilariously spent. 
 The elder, although he showed that he had been 
 drinking, was by no means as far gone as his 
 friend, whom he was apparently piloting to his 
 home. The task seemed to present new difficul- 
 ties as they arrived in front of the Cathedral 
 door. For the younger seemed to be struck for 
 the first time with the beauty of the faade 
 which he wished to examine at his leisure. He 
 was finally persuaded to continue his journey, 
 and they went on down Fifty-second Street, 
 pausing every few steps to argue some matter 
 which seemed to have something to do with the 
 wisdom of "having just one more." 
 
 From time to time a woman, shivering in 
 spite of the long fur coat that completely en- 
 veloped her figure, peered out from one of 
 the swinging doors. Burnett, on his way up 
 the steps, caused her to give a little cry of 
 fright. 
 
 "What are you doing here?" he demanded. 
 
 "You know." 
 
 "What!" 
 
 "To keep you to your resolution, and to help 
 you if I can." 
 
 "I can't do it, Grace, I can't!"
 
 LIFE 309 
 
 "You must. If they get him, what will he do? 
 Confess everything he knows." 
 
 "But he's clever. He might get away." 
 
 "Even so: so long as he lives, he'll hold you 
 in the hollow of his hand." 
 
 "I know that. But " 
 
 "Where's your nerve, Tom?" 
 
 "It's an awful thing to do. Here, in the 
 shadow of a church. Listen! There goes the 
 organ. And before they have finished, I'll 
 have " He broke off, shuddering violently. 
 
 " It 's his life or yours, Tom. Think of that. ' 
 
 "I know." 
 
 "I'll be in the runabout, waiting on Fifty- 
 second Street. If you are pushed " 
 
 She made a warning sign, and started rap- 
 idly down the steps as Dutch Joe came into 
 view. Burnett crouched in the shadow of the 
 great doors. 
 
 In front of the steps, Joe paused a moment, 
 looking about him with a frown. He made a 
 move as if to go away again, when Burnett 
 stepped forward. 
 
 "I've been waiting for you." 
 
 "Got the stuff?" he started up to meet him. 
 
 "Yes, but come on down and we'll walk up a 
 side street." 
 
 He waited until Joe turned and started down. 
 When he was a step below him, he drew a slung- 
 shot from his pocket and, raising it high in the 
 air, brought it down on Joe's head twice. 
 
 With a muffled gasp, Joe pitched forward,
 
 310 LIFE 
 
 and diving headlong down the steps, lay huddled 
 at the bottom. 
 
 Quick as a flash, Burnett was beside him. 
 Tearing open his coat, he searched rapidly for 
 the coveted paper. Yes, it was there. With a 
 hasty glance to assure himself that it was the 
 original and not merely a copy, without an- 
 other look at his victim, who lay where he had 
 fallen, he dashed along the Avenue to Fifty- 
 second Street. At the far end of the block was 
 Grace's runabout. He could see her gazing 
 anxiously from the window. The only other 
 human beings in sight were the two young men 
 who were standing in the middle of the pave- 
 ment still arguing the matter of another drink. 
 
 "Get out of the way, will you?" 
 
 "Wacha want? The whole st-street?" de- 
 manded the drunker of the two aggressively. 
 He made a snatch at Burnett's coat and caught 
 him by the lapel. With an oath, Burnett freed 
 himself with a jerk, toppling over the drunkard 
 as he dashed on. His friend divided his atten- 
 tion between helping his companion, who was 
 now weeping in a maudlin manner, and cursing 
 Burnett with ardor and fluency. 
 
 Grace threw open the door, and as he sprang 
 in the runabout started off. 
 
 Joe had rolled over so that he was now lying 
 on his face. He moaned piteously. Occasion- 
 ally he made a feeble effort to call for help. 
 But for nearly a quarter of an hour no one 
 chanced to pass by or hear him.
 
 LIFE 311 
 
 Finally, one of the vergers of the Cathedral 
 opened the door and came out onto the steps. 
 Seeing him lying there, he at first thought that 
 he had only a drunken man to deal with. 
 
 "Get along out of here!" he said. "You 
 ought to be ashamed, lyin' drunk at the very 
 door of the church on Christmas mornin'." 
 
 In trying to raise his head, his hand came 
 in contact with something wet and sticky. It 
 was blood. With an exclamation of alarm, he 
 ran back into the church. He returned in a 
 second with a number of men. In that magic 
 manner, which is the secret of all great cities, 
 a crowd had already sprung up from nowhere. 
 While some ran in search of a policeman, others 
 bent over the prostrate body in a vain attempt 
 to be of some assistance. Others, again, started 
 for a doctor. 
 
 ' ' Somebody ought to ring for the ambulance," 
 volunteered one. 
 
 1 c Here ! Let me through, I 'm a doctor. ' ' 
 
 A man with graying hair pushed his way 
 through the crowd and bent down over Joe. 
 
 "Well?" asked an authoritative voice which 
 made the policeman look up quickly. 
 
 "Just a chance if we can get him on the 
 operating table right away." 
 
 "You must save him, you must!" said Ander- 
 son, for it was he. "An innocent man's life de- 
 pends on it. ' ' 
 
 "Make way, make way for Father Kelly!" 
 cried a voice.
 
 312 LIFE 
 
 A priest, still in his robes, was coming down 
 the steps. 
 
 "He is still alive?" 
 
 "Yes, Father." 
 
 "Father," said Anderson, stepping forward, 
 "I am Chief of Detectives Anderson. This man 
 is a criminal with an innocent man's life in his 
 hands. Let the doctor revive him and get a 
 confession first. Then " 
 
 "The Church, my son," said the priest 
 gently, "thinks only of the good of this dying 
 sinner's soul." 
 
 "But " 
 
 Joe gave another moan, and opening his eyes, 
 struggled to speak. 
 
 "You are dying, my son; have you anything 
 to confess?" He lifted him in his arms. 
 
 ' ' I am innocent ' ' Here he choked, but 
 
 with a last effort managed to go on in a voice 
 that was only a hoarse whisper. The doctor, 
 the priest and Anderson bent over him. " Stuy- 
 vesant murder. I saw it. It was " 
 
 His head fell over on one side. 
 
 "It's all over," said the doctor. 
 
 It was New Year's Eve, and Warden Mc- 
 Carthy of Sing Sing prison had been enter- 
 taining some friends at dinner. It would have 
 greatly surprised some of the people in the set 
 in which Ruth moved, if they could have looked 
 in upon the Warden and his guests, to discover 
 Jennie and Jimmy Jones at his hospitable
 
 LIFE 313 
 
 board. Anderson, too, was of the number. But 
 that was hardly so surprising, as he and the 
 genial Warden had known each other for a 
 number of years. 
 
 The Warden's dining-room was large and 
 spacious and handsomely furnished. At one 
 end was a curtained doorway which led to the 
 other rooms comprising the private apartments. 
 At the other end, in grim contrast, was a heavily 
 barred door which led into the prison itself. 
 That, and the view of high stone walls to be 
 had from the large bay window, was the only 
 thing that suggested that the guests might not 
 be in any private house, until one happened to 
 glance at the servants who were waiting on 
 the table, who all wore the prison uniform. 
 
 The dessert had been removed, and the guests, 
 some of them with their chairs a little pushed 
 back, were discussing their host's coffee and 
 liqueurs. 
 
 "Try one of those cigars, Anderson," said 
 the host genially. "I have them made specially 
 for me." 
 
 Anderson took one. 
 
 "Wonderful! Where do you get them?" he 
 asked, after puffing appreciatively at it for a 
 moment. 
 
 "Oh!" laughed the Warden, "a chap who 
 boarded here with me a couple of years after- 
 wards went to Havana. He made good, and 
 now he sends them to me regularly." 
 
 "Pretty soft for him, isn't it?" asked Ander-
 
 314 LIFE 
 
 son of the table generally. "Nothin' to do but 
 run this State Boarding House at a good salary, 
 with no chance of loss. And when they leave, 
 the boarders send him presents! Pretty soft!" 
 
 "As Chief of Detectives you have rather a 
 nice life yourself," McCarthy reminded him. 
 
 "A nice life ! Do you think a boarding-house 
 runner has a nice life? That's what I am. I 
 work twenty-four hours a day to keep your 
 boarding-house full for you. And it's some job, 
 believe me. Nobody wants to come ! ' ' 
 
 "Don't they ever get out?" asked Jennie. 
 
 "From Sing Sing! Not a chance, Mrs. 
 Jones. No one has gotten away since I've been 
 here, and I don't think anyone will. Why, it 
 would ruin me reputation as a boar din '-house 
 keeper entirely!" 
 
 "What would you do if one tried to get 
 away?" pursued Jennie. 
 
 "Shoot him like a dog. That's all he'd de- 
 serve. ' ' 
 
 Jennie changed color. But her glance never 
 wavered. 
 
 ' ' That seems a terrible thing to do to a man 
 just because he wants liberty." 
 
 "My dear Mrs. Jones, nowadays, when a 
 man's convicted you may be sure he's guilty. 
 He's gettin' only what's comin' to him." 
 
 "The husband of a woman I used to know 
 very slightly is here now. Somehow, I have 
 never been able to believe in his guilt." 
 
 "What was he accused of?"
 
 UFE 315 
 
 " Murder. " 
 
 "Who is he?" 
 
 " William Reid." 
 
 "Mrs. Jones, there have been men I felt sorry 
 for when they went to the chair; but I firmly 
 believe he's as guilty as hell!" 
 
 "I guess there's no chance of his escaping, 
 then," put in Anderson. 
 
 "I wish he'd only try," said the Warden 
 grimly. "I'd be glad to take a shot at him 
 myself!" 
 
 "Why are you so bitter, Mac? I convicted 
 the fellow myself, and I don't feel that way." 
 
 "Well, you see, I happened to meet young 
 Stuyvesant and his partner, Burnett. They told 
 me a lot about Reid stuff they couldn't get 
 in at the trial and it showed me what kind of 
 a fellow he was." 
 
 "I should think, Mrs. McCarthy, you'd be 
 afraid to stay here with so many desperate 
 criminals. Don't you ever get frightened?" 
 asked one of the women. 
 
 "The idea never enters my head!" protested 
 Mrs. McCarthy stoutly. "You see, I have them 
 all about me as servants." 
 
 "Yes," said Anderson. "I have already rec- 
 ognized several old friends whom I induced to 
 come here." 
 
 "Then the servant problem doesn't worry 
 you, Mrs. McCarthy?" said Jennie. 
 
 "Why, I don't know what I'd ever do if Mr. 
 McCarthy had to give up this place," laughed
 
 316 LIFE 
 
 Mrs. McCarthy. "I couldn't think of anything 
 less than a bank teller for butler !" 
 
 "You don't limit your house servants to 
 bank tellers, do you?" asked another of the 
 guests. 
 
 "Oh, no! I'm not that particular. Harding, 
 here" she pointed to the most dignified of the 
 serving men "was superintendent of a Sun- 
 day school when they caught him with his fifth 
 wife." 
 
 "Fifth wife!" exclaimed the women in 
 horror. 
 
 "I I I say! Wasn't one e-e-e-enough ? " 
 
 "Jimmy!" 
 
 "Each one was too much, sir. That's why I 
 had to try five, ' ' replied the ex-superintendent. 
 
 "Old Bill, there," said Mrs. McCarthy, point- 
 ing to an old man with white hair, "is the fa- 
 vorite. He 's been in prison almost fifty years. ' ' 
 
 "Fifty years!" 
 
 "Ask him about it. He's a privileged char- 
 acter." 
 
 "And you've been a prisoner fifty years?" 
 asked Jennie kindly. 
 
 "Yes, ma'am," said the old man, almost with 
 an air of pride, "comin' March." 
 
 "Don't you want to be free?" 
 
 "No man ever quits wantin' to be free, 
 ma'am. But I don't hardly know what I'd do 
 if I was!" 
 
 "You've never been out since you came 
 here?"
 
 LIFE 317 
 
 "Twict. They took me to the station to see 
 the trains go by. And onct I was away two 
 days. But they caught me before I ever 
 got to New York. That was forty years 
 ago." 
 
 "New York has changed a lot in fifty years !" 
 
 "It must have, ma'am. They tell me it's 
 built clean up to Thirty-fourth Street. May 
 I give you some more coffee, ma'am?" 
 
 "Thank you. What did they put you in here 
 for, Bill!" 
 
 "I slipped poison in my old woman's coffee, 
 ma'am. She bothered me talkin' too much!" 
 
 Jennie hastily replaced her cup untasted. 
 
 "I think we'd better leave the gentlemen to 
 their cigars," suggested Mrs. McCarthy. 
 
 In the slight confusion of picking up gloves 
 and moving back chairs, Jennie managed to 
 whisper to Anderson : 
 
 "If I had any qualms before, I've lost them 
 now after hearing him talk." 
 
 "Easy!" cautioned Anderson. 
 
 * ' What time is it ? She ought to be here ! ' ' 
 
 A guard came in and crossed over to the 
 Warden, carrying a salver on which was a card 
 with some writing on it. 
 
 The Warden looked at it angrily through his 
 eyeglass. 
 
 "Damned impertinence, inter ruptin' me at 
 me dinner! I've half a notion not to see her!" 
 
 "Who is it, Dennis?" asked his wife. 
 
 "That fellow Keid's wife! Comin' here and
 
 318 LIFE 
 
 interruptin' me at me dinner, wantin' to see 
 her husband ! ' ' 
 
 "Why don't you let her see him, Mac?" 
 asked Anderson carelessly. 
 
 "Sure, I'll let her see him before he dies. 
 There's plenty of time." 
 
 Ruth came quietly into the room, following 
 the guard. She bowed coldly to Anderson, but 
 took no notice of either Jennie or Jimmy. 
 
 "Can't you let me see my husband, Mr. Mc- 
 Carthy? I mean see him in your office or or 
 here?" 
 
 "Mrs. Reid, I appreciate how you feel. But 
 do you suppose I'm goin' to bring a condemned 
 murderer out of the prison to see you? Non- 
 sense! I told your lawyer, and I told your 
 friend Mr. MacLaren that, when they made the 
 request. ' ' 
 
 "Yes, I know you did. They tried to keep 
 me from coming to-day, but " For a mo- 
 ment she could not go on. She buried her face 
 in her handkerchief. 
 
 "If you were to be allowed to walk through 
 the corridor of the Death House, and stop a mo- 
 ment outside his cell " 
 
 "And he inside a steel grating, and I outside 
 another steel grating with six feet of open 
 space between us ! " 
 
 "You could see him for a moment." 
 
 "Could I touch him? Could I come close to 
 him? Could he take me in his arms? Oh, Mr. 
 McCarthy! You wouldn't condemn me to go
 
 LIFE 319 
 
 through life without even the memory of his 
 kiss ! Oh, you won 't ! You can 't ! You haven 't 
 the right to refuse me!" 
 
 "You can see him in the prison to-morrow 
 night the night before he dies," said Mc- 
 Carthy coldly. 
 
 Euth turned passionately to Mrs. McCarthy. 
 
 "Won't you plead for me!" 
 
 "Dennis, dear! She's so young, and she'll 
 never see him again. Couldn't " 
 
 "Don't, Nora, don't." 
 
 Euth's manner changed. A new light of de- 
 termination shone in her eyes. 
 
 "Then you won't let me see him here and 
 now?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "You could if you would?" 
 
 "Yes, but I won't! Now, that ends it!" 
 
 "But it doesn't end it! Here!" She pulled 
 a paper from her muff. ' ' From the Governor ! ' ' 
 
 "Why didn't you say, in the first place, that 
 you had this order!" asked McCarthy angrily. 
 
 ' ' Because I wanted to see what kind of a man 
 you were!" 
 
 McCarthy's face turned scarlet. He turned 
 to the guard. 
 
 "Tell the Head Keeper to bring William 
 Eeid, well guarded, over here to see his wife for 
 the last time, by order of the Governor. Nora, 
 you'd better ask our guests to go into the other 
 room with you. Not you, Anderson; just wait 
 a minute, will you!"
 
 320 LIFE 
 
 Drawing Anderson down to the fireplace, he 
 missed seeing the significant glance which 
 Jennie and Ruth exchanged before the former 
 left the room. 
 
 "I tell you, Bull, it's an outrage ! Her makin' 
 me look like a boob, and before all those people, 
 too ! I've a great mind to call up the Governor 
 and tell him what I think of his givin' an order 
 over my head," stormed the mortified Warden. 
 
 "Oh, better go slow," soothed Anderson. 
 
 "Well, I'll take it out on them!" 
 
 "How?" 
 
 "I'm goin' to sit right here in this chair, let 
 'em talk in front of me, and walk him out 
 again ! ' ' 
 
 "I wouldn't do that. It'll put you in bad." 
 
 "I don't see that." 
 
 * ' She must have a pretty good pull to get that 
 order out of the Governor. She'll get the story 
 printed there are papers that don't like you, 
 remember 'Cruel Warden Insults Wife at 
 Farewell Interview!' How would you like to 
 see that?" 
 
 "That's so." 
 
 "You got a chance to be decent and not lose 
 anything." The telephone rang violently. 
 "Maybe that's the Governor calling now." 
 
 The Warden hurried over to the 'phone. 
 
 "Hello! Yes, this is McCarthy. Oh, Barnes 
 and Co., New York. Well, what are you callin' 
 me up at this time of day for? What's that! 
 Five thousand dollars ! Say, wait a minute. I
 
 LIFE 321 
 
 can't talk to you on this 'phone. Wait! I'll 
 call you up in three minutes." 
 
 "If it's somethin' important, Mac," sug- 
 gested Anderson, "why don't you leave this to 
 me. I'll watch him." 
 
 "Thanks, I'll take you! I've just got to talk 
 to that fellow right away!" 
 
 "Guess so. Business won't wait even on the 
 Warden of Sing Sing ! ' ' 
 
 "When Eeid comes in," said McCarthy, turn- 
 ing to a guard, "take your orders from Mr. 
 Anderson." 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "You can see your husband, Mrs. Reid, for 
 five minutes only. I was goin' to give you an 
 hour to-morrow night. But you went over my 
 head. So you can just consider this your 
 good-by!" 
 
 He hurried out, followed by the keeper. 
 
 Euth turned to Anderson with outstretched 
 hands. 
 
 "Thank God! Thank God!" She broke into 
 a little hysterical laugh. "Mr. MacLaren timed 
 it just right ! He called him just in time ! ' ' 
 
 Anderson caught her by the arm and shook 
 her. 
 
 "Pull yourself together! No nonsense, now! 
 Remember, this is the test." 
 
 * ' Yes yes ! I know. I will ! ' ' She was mak- 
 ing a fight to retain her self-control. 
 
 * ' Is everything ready 1 ' ' 
 
 "Yes, yes! O'Brien is waiting in the car
 
 322 LIFE 
 
 with the engine going. The motor-boat and the 
 yacht are ready." 
 
 "Good! Kemember it's all a question of 
 nerve. The luck is changing. The Governor's 
 giving you that order showed it!" 
 
 Again she had to fight her rising hysteria. 
 
 "The Governor gave me no order!" 
 
 "Then how did you get it!" 
 
 "I stole the paper from his desk at our last 
 interview a moment when his back was turned. 
 The body of the letter is typewritten. I forged 
 his name! Ha, ha, ha! I'd do it again! I'd 
 do more to save him!" 
 
 "You're a wonder!" said Anderson in un- 
 feigned admiration. 
 
 Two guards, armed with rifles, came in and 
 took their station on the inside of the door. 
 Anderson looked from one to the other. 
 
 "What's the ideal" 
 
 "We're going to stay here during the talk." 
 
 "Oh, are you? Not while I'm in authority. 
 Do you think I'm goin' to have you men stand 
 there and watch a woman sufferin ' I Not much ! 
 You stand outside the door, and don't come in 
 except at my orders. You know me?" 
 
 "Yes, Mr. Anderson." 
 
 They went out as silently as they had come. 
 The door opened once more, and accompanied by 
 four other guards, also armed, Bill Eeid came 
 across the threshold. At the sight of him, so 
 thin, so haggard, with the dreadful prison pallor 
 replacing the glow of health she had always
 
 LIFE 323 
 
 seen in his face, Euth staggered as if she were 
 about to fall. She held out her arms with a low 
 moan. Quick as a thought, Anderson got be- 
 hind him and closed the door in the face of the 
 waiting guards. 
 
 "Ruth!" All his heart was in that cry. 
 
 In a moment they were in each other's arms. 
 
 4 'My wife! My little wife !" 
 
 "Hold me tight tighter so close, darling, 
 that you hurt ! I want to feel your arms crush- 
 ing me!" 
 
 "We've such a little time, and so much to say, 
 darling!" 
 
 "Let me look at you! Oh, my poor sweet- 
 heart ! ' ' Once more she buried her face on his 
 breast. 
 
 "Mrs. Eeid! Mrs. Eeid! Eemember! 
 There's not an instant to lose!" Anderson re- 
 minded her. 
 
 "You!" said Eeid, recognizing him for the 
 first time. ' ' What right have you here ? Ar en 't 
 you satisfied with sending me to the chair that 
 you must embitter my last " 
 
 "No, no, dear! He did help convict you. 
 But now he's here to save you." 
 
 "I don't understand." 
 
 "You don't have to!" snapped Anderson. 
 "Get off that coat!" 
 
 As Eeid began to take off his coat in a dazed 
 fashion, Anderson ripped off his collar and tie 
 and the dicky he was wearing. 
 
 ' ' Here ! Special for the occasion ! ' '
 
 324 LIFE 
 
 He pulled Eeid behind a screen just as Jennie 
 came softly in at the door leading to the front 
 of the apartment. 
 
 " Every thing's quiet," she whispered. 
 "Where are they?" 
 
 Without trusting herself to answer, Ruth 
 jerked her head toward the screen. 
 
 In another second Anderson and Eeid came 
 out. They had changed clothes even to their 
 shoes. 
 
 "I don't know why you're doing this for 
 me " 
 
 "I'm not. I'm doin' it for myself!" 
 
 "What next?" 
 
 "Go with your wife that's all you've got to 
 do." 
 
 "There's a motor waiting, and a boat in the 
 Hudson. We're going to get out of the country 
 to-night." 
 
 "Here!" 
 
 Anderson snatched an overcoat and a slouch 
 hat from behind the screen, and began hustling 
 Keid into the coat. 
 
 "Pull the hat down over your eyes, man. 
 She's fainting after the good-by, an' you're 
 takin'her to the machine. Get the idea? When 
 you get in, the rest is up to you." 
 
 "And you? It's your job. You've thrown 
 that away." 
 
 "Not if you work it right. Here!" He 
 picked a wine bottle from the table. 
 
 "Hit me over the head!"
 
 LIFE 325 
 
 "Why, I couldn't " 
 
 "Hit, you damn fool! And don't be all night 
 about it!" 
 
 But the blow that Eeid gave him, while it 
 cut his head open, was not enough to satisfy 
 him. 
 
 "You couldn't smash a mosquito!" he grum- 
 bled. "Here, I'll bet you can do it!" 
 
 He handed another bottle to Ruth. ' ' Remem- 
 ber, it was me that got you in all this 
 mess!" 
 
 Ruth struck him with all her strength, and 
 he went reeling to the floor. Womanlike, she 
 covered her face with her hands. 
 
 "You've no time to be sorry now," Jennie re- 
 minded her. "Take her other arm, Bill." 
 
 As she opened the door, she said in a voice 
 sufficiently loud to be heard in the other rooms : 
 
 "Yes, Mr. Anderson, I'll help you out with 
 her." 
 
 As the door closed behind them, Anderson 
 sat up, put his hand to his head, grinned when 
 he saw the blood, and laid back. 
 
 The five minutes being up, the guard came in 
 at the other door. Anderson's head was turned 
 so that he could not see his face. 
 
 "The poor boob's fainted!" he said, as he 
 kicked at his feet. 
 
 "Come on, Reid, get up!" 
 
 As the supposed Reid did not move, he bent 
 over him. 
 
 "Good God! It's Mr. Anderson! Help!
 
 326 LIFE 
 
 Help! Ring the bell! Catch him! Reid's es- 
 caped I" 
 
 He rushed for the door and threw it open. 
 From outside came the honk of an automobile 
 starting away at high speed. McCarthy at the 
 head of some guards, followed by some of the 
 guests, came rushing into the room. 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 "Reid: he's knocked out Mr. Anderson and 
 got away in that automobile!" 
 
 "Damn you!" With a blow of his fist, Mc- 
 Carthy knocked him down. ' ' That's what comes 
 of trusting a woman!" 
 
 He rushed over, grabbed and raised Ander- 
 son, who remained limp and unconscious in his 
 arms. 
 
 " Get out my machine. Eing the bell. Sound 
 the alarm. Telephone all up and down the 
 road. They can't have got far. We'll catch 
 them. Damn him! He won't be electrocuted! 
 I'll blow his head off myself!" 
 
 "There's the car, sir." Again the honk of 
 an automobile was heard. 
 
 McCarthy rushed behind the screen. 
 
 "The damned murderin' thief! He's gone 
 off with my hat and coat ! ' ' 
 
 He tore out of the room, followed by the 
 prison guards, to the sound of the clanging bell, 
 the discharge of guns and other sounds of the 
 wildest excitement.
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 IT was the evening of the next day. Even 
 the rouge which she had put on more heavily 
 than ever before could not hide the haggard 
 look of Grace's face. She was sitting in her 
 boudoir, dressed in a delicate white gown edged 
 and trimmer) with fur. From time to time she 
 left her chair to alter the arrangement of the 
 gewgaws on a low table that stood in the win- 
 dow, or to fuss with the flowers in the bowl on 
 the chimney-piece. 
 
 She was perfectly aware that she was show- 
 ing signs of extreme nervousness. But who 
 would not, she asked herself, with Bull Ander- 
 son sitting in the same room, putting one 
 through a mild form of " Third Degree"! 
 
 There he was, and there he had been for the 
 past hour, seeming to sit even more erect than 
 usual in his chair. And the questions ! Some- 
 times he asked them slowly and distinctly, pon- 
 dering over her replies so long that she felt that 
 she must scream at the top of her voice if he 
 kept silent another second. Again he fired them 
 at her so rapidly that her brain fairly reeled 
 in the effort to answer without betraying some- 
 thing. For who could tell what seemingly in- 
 nocent question masked a pitfall of the most 
 fatal kind? 
 
 327
 
 328 LIFE 
 
 "On my word, Mr. Anderson, I've told you 
 everything I know, ' ' she said, more to break an 
 unusually long silence that had fallen between 
 them than with any hope of bringing his visit to 
 an end. 
 
 " You'd better tell the truth, Grace Andrews, 
 if you don't want your father and mother to 
 come here and find out all about you," he said 
 sternly. 
 
 "My God, no! Not that! Not that! They 
 think I have a position here at a good salary. 
 And they're so proud of my success and the 
 presents I am able to give them. It would 
 break my mother's heart to know the truth 
 about me. I couldn't stand it, Mr. Anderson, 
 I just couldn't!" 
 
 "What were you doing at the Cathedral 
 Christmas morning?" 
 
 "I've already told you, and I tell you again 
 I went to early Mass." 
 
 "And was it in front of the Cathedral that 
 you met Burnett?" 
 
 "I tell you I didn't meet him! On my word, 
 I didn't! By everything I hold sacred, I 
 didn't!" 
 
 "You are positive Burnett was not there." 
 
 "Positive." 
 
 "How can you be sure?" 
 
 "I I Well, Mr. Burnett spent the night 
 
 here. I left him here asleep. ' ' 
 
 "While you went to Mass?" 
 
 "Yes."
 
 LIFE 329 
 
 "And it is Ralph Stuyvesant who supports 
 you?" 
 
 She nodded sulkily. 
 
 "Where is Burnett now?" 
 
 "I haven't the slightest idea." 
 
 "When did you see him last?" 
 
 "Yesterday. But what are you driving at? 
 Surely you don't connect Mr. Burnett in any 
 way with the murder of that man in front of 
 the Cathedral!" 
 
 "I haven't said what I connect Burnett with. 
 But there are a good many questions he'll have 
 to answer." 
 
 "Oh, he'll answer them quickly enough!" 
 And then, suddenly flaring up: "It's easy to 
 see what's the matter with you, Bull Anderson! 
 You let that murderer Eeid escape, and you're 
 in bad. So you're trying to kick up a hulla- 
 baloo over something else to divert attention 
 from your failure. That's what's the matter 
 with you! Only, I warn you; you'd better be 
 careful. You're fooling with a big man when 
 you fool with Tom Burnett. You're likely to 
 make things worse for yourself instead of 
 better." 
 
 "If Burnett comes here to-night," said An- 
 derson, rising and paying not the slightest at- 
 tention to her tirade, "tell him I want to see 
 him." 
 
 "I'll tell him." She crossed the room and 
 rang a bell. "Marie," she said to the maid, 
 "lock the door after Mr. Anderson."
 
 330 LIFE 
 
 Anderson grinned as he went out. 
 
 For a moment after she had seen his broad 
 back disappear, Grace stood rigid. But when 
 the welcome sound of the slamming of the 
 elevator door reached her ears she darted 
 across the room to the door leading to her bed- 
 room. 
 
 "Tom! Tom!" she called. "It's all right. 
 He's gone!" 
 
 A key turned in the lock and Burnett came 
 into the room. At the sight of him Grace, with 
 an heroic effort, pulled herself together. She 
 saw plainly that the slightest signs of nervous- 
 ness on her part would shatter his last remnant 
 of self-control. He was in evening dress, 
 but his unusual pallor and the twitching of 
 his face showed that he was near the break- 
 ing point. She must be strong for them 
 both. 
 
 "You heard?" 
 
 "Every word." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 "They're after me! By God, they're after 
 me!" He sank down on the couch and buried 
 his face in his hands. 
 
 "They could never convict you. They can't 
 even seriously suspect you of killing a cheap 
 thing like Dutch Joe!" 
 
 "That's not it. Don't you see? That's just 
 incidental. They 've demanded an accounting of 
 Ruth's money. They've put special accountants 
 on the books at the bank. That means the
 
 LIFE 331 
 
 game's nearly up. They're working back 
 working back to Stuyvesant!" 
 
 "But Raid's under sentence of death for that. 
 Even if he has escaped, they're after him Hot 
 and heavy." 
 
 "You don't suppose a man gets away from 
 the Death House in Sing Sing without police 
 assistance?" 
 
 The telephone bell jangled sharply. 
 
 "What's that?" 
 
 "Just the 'phone." 
 
 "Be careful! It may be some trick." 
 
 Grace nodded reassuringly. 
 
 "Yes!" she said, the receiver at her ear. 
 "What? An old man and an old woman asking 
 for this apartment? Want to know if my name 
 is Grace Andrews? Of course not. I never 
 heard of a Grace Andrews." 
 
 "Don't you see? A trick, a police trick. 
 They've got your parents after us. Send them 
 away! Send them away, I tell you!" 
 
 "I tell you I don't know any Grace Andrews. 
 Send them away. What's that? They've been 
 here a number of times asking for the same 
 person. Well, I can't help that." 
 
 "You see!" 
 
 "Oh, it's terrible! It isn't as if you meant 
 to kill old Stuyvesant!" 
 
 "No, but he's dead, and somebody has to pay. 
 I thought I could escape paying by putting it 
 off on Eeid. And then Schmidt came and now 
 he's dead, too. And Eeid's escaped. It's just
 
 332 LIFE 
 
 piling up and piling up, and somebody '11 have 
 to pay for the total. God! I won't! I 
 can't!" 
 
 His voice rose to a scream. She went over 
 and shook him by the shoulders. 
 
 "Pull yourself together, Tom. You mustn't 
 give way. You're all wrong, I tell you. You 
 can escape, and and make a new start. ' ' 
 
 "Escape? A new start? What chance is 
 there? And suppose I do, what then? To be 
 hounded for the rest of my life. Never to know 
 a moment's peace, never a night's quiet rest. 
 But, waking and sleeping, always waiting for 
 that hand to fall on my shoulder and that voice 
 to say: 'Thomas Burnett, I arrest you for the 
 
 murder ' No, no! I can't stand it, I tell 
 
 you. I'd rather " 
 
 "You'd rather what? Give yourself up, or 
 kill yourself ? Be a coward and a quitter ? And 
 I thought you were a man!" 
 
 "What do you mean?" 
 
 "I wish I were a man to show you!" 
 
 "What would you do?" 
 
 "Do? I'd be a man and not a whining cow- 
 ard! I'd fight, that's what I'd do!" 
 
 "And how?" 
 
 "I'd put on a bold front. I'd act as though 
 nothing had happened. If you are afraid of 
 discovery here, get away. But don't run away. 
 You have interests in many countries. Visit 
 some of them. But take plenty of money with 
 you."
 
 LIFE 333 
 
 "And be extradited when they want me!" 
 
 "Why not Mexico? You couldn't very well 
 be extradited from there, as things are now. 
 And Stuyvesant and Company own valuable 
 mines there, besides their oil properties. There 
 you'd be a little king with your own people 
 to fight for you. And if it comes out you're 
 there, no one could accuse you of running 
 away." 
 
 "Go openly?" 
 
 "No. Go secretly, and take all the money you 
 can lay your hands on with you. ' ' 
 
 "I see." 
 
 "You can get the money?" 
 
 "Yes. I've put two hundred thousand of the 
 bank's where I can get it." 
 
 "Very well, then." 
 
 "I'll do it! I'll get away to-night. You've 
 put new heart into me. I'll make a break for 
 El Paso. There's a man there, a man named 
 Eao. He knows Northern Mexico like a book. 
 I'll be safe with him. I'll write you under the 
 name of Barnes, telling you how you can com- 
 municate with me. Then, when I'm safe, I'll 
 send for you. ' ' 
 
 "And I'll come. Oh, how gladly I will come, 
 and leave all this and him!" 
 
 She was in his arms, murmuring farewells 
 and terms of endearment, when the door flew 
 open and Ralph, with every mark of having 
 been drinking, lurched into the room. 
 
 "So that's the game, is it?" he sneered.
 
 334 LIFE 
 
 Burnett had so long completely dominated 
 the weaker man that it was second nature to do 
 so now. 
 
 "What game! What do you mean?" he de- 
 manded indignantly. 
 
 "What sort of a fool do you think I am?" 
 retorted Ralph with unwonted spirit. "She's 
 my girl mine. She's been mine for nearly 
 two years ! And you ! I thought you were my 
 best friend. And now I come and find you in 
 each other's arms! Damn you, I'll show you!" 
 
 He whipped out a gun and advanced threat- 
 eningly on Burnett. 
 
 It was curious how, at the bare sight of a gun, 
 all of Burnett's nerve returned, together with 
 the instinct to protect the woman at his 
 side. 
 
 * ' Shoot, if you think it will do you any good ! ' ' 
 he bluffed. The muzzle of the gun was cold 
 against his chest. "If she is unfaithful to you 
 if we both are unfaithful shooting either or 
 both of us will do a lot of good, won't it? And 
 being shot is an easy finish compared to yours, 
 if you kill us!" 
 
 "I'll kill myself, too!" 
 
 "No, you won't, Ealph. You're not that 
 kind!" 
 
 "I've been your best friend. But for me, 
 you'd be in prison for forgery. But if you think 
 I've wronged you, shoot me. I won't defend 
 myself!"
 
 LIFE 335 
 
 "I wouldn't have believed it," said Ralph 
 whimperingly. The gun wavered in his 
 hand. 
 
 "Why shouldn't you believe it?" demanded 
 Grace with sudden rage. "You don't suppose I 
 can care for you when " 
 
 "When you've misjudged her so cruelly, so 
 shamefully!" put in Burnett hastily. 
 
 "Misjudged her! Haven't I eyes!" 
 
 "You saw me telling her good-by. I'm going 
 away for a long time, maybe to-night." 
 
 "Do you expect me to believe that?" 
 
 "Believe it or not. I'm going." 
 
 "That's true, Ralph, Gospel truth. I was so 
 sorry to see Tom go. That was all. He 's been 
 our best friend." 
 
 "You're going? You mean you're running 
 away?" 
 
 "Yes. I'm running to cover. And if you 
 aren't a damned fool you'll take some means to 
 protect yourself, too. Or they'll get us both for 
 trying to railroad an innocent man to the 
 chair!" 
 
 "I never knew he- was innocent!" said Ralph 
 in wonder. 
 
 "No?" 
 
 "I didn't. I tell you I didn't. I believed all 
 along he was guilty." 
 
 "Well, I knew all the time he was innocent. 
 I tried to railroad him, and I failed. ' ' 
 
 ' * You knew it all the time ? ' ' said 
 Ralph slowly. "How did you know it? You
 
 336 LIFE 
 
 were in the room just before Then 
 
 you " He reached for the gun again, which 
 
 was lying on the table. 
 
 4 'No, no, no! Not that, Ealph! I swear be- 
 fore God, not that! Dutch Joe was the man 
 who did it. And now he's dead." 
 
 "You've sworn to too many lies already," 
 screamed Ealph, roused to a real rage at the 
 thought that he might be in the presence of his 
 father's murderer. 
 
 ' ' Oh, your shooting bluff ! ' ' sneered Burnett. 
 
 "Shoot you? No. I'm going to take you and 
 turn you over to the police." 
 
 "Very well, do. But the minute I'm arrested, 
 there will be a counter charge against you. For 
 forgery, for perjury and for embezzlement. 
 Come on!" 
 
 "Don't!" said Ealph, sinking into a chair. 
 
 "If I murdered your father, why did I do it! 
 That's what the court will ask. And where 
 will you stand? A son who forged his father's 
 name, who stole nearly a million dollars from 
 him, and then, when that father was dead, 
 perjured himself on the witness stand to 
 fasten the crime on an innocent man, and that 
 man his sister's husband! Come on! Let's 
 go to the police. We'll see who's locked 
 up!" 
 
 "I can't! I can't!" sobbed Ealph. "I can't 
 face the shame and disgrace ! I loathe myself, 
 but I can't face it all!" 
 
 For a long time Burnett stood looking down
 
 LIFE 337 
 
 on him, with a smile of contempt. Then he laid 
 his hand on the bowed head. 
 
 "There's no danger to you, Ralph, if you 
 keep quiet. All this will blow over. MacLaren 
 will help you, for your father's sake, and I'll 
 be back when the excitement is over. 
 Good-by!" 
 
 "Good-by!" said Ealph huskily, without 
 looking up. 
 
 "Go out through my bedroom and the serv- 
 ant's entrance," whispered Grace. "It will be 
 safer. ' ' 
 
 They exchanged a last, lingering look of fare- 
 well. For a moment she turned away. She 
 heard the door close, without looking around. 
 He was gone. When would she see him again! 
 On one thing her mind was made up : she would 
 break with Ealph here and now. She had plenty 
 of money to tide her over until Burnett should 
 send for her. 
 
 "Grace!" Ralph raised his head and looked 
 at her appealingly. "Grace, I was wrong, but 
 I was half mad. Won't you forgive me and 
 tell me you still love me?" 
 
 "No!" 
 
 "Then you haven't really ever loved 
 me!" 
 
 "Do you think that any woman could love 
 you! A coward, a thing like you!" 
 
 "Then you do love him!" 
 
 "Yes. What are you going to do about it?" 
 she asked insolently.
 
 338 LIFE 
 
 "Do! I'm going to kick you out of this! 
 Throw you back into the street ! ' ' 
 
 She drew herself up to her full height and 
 laughed at him. 
 
 "And do you really think I'd have to stay 
 long in the street? Look at me ! Why, you little 
 fool, I hated you from the beginning. I'll be 
 only too glad to go !" 
 
 "You will, damn you!" 
 
 He threw himself upon her, and catching her 
 by the throat, hurled her down on the couch, 
 still keeping his strangling clutch. 
 
 "Help! Help! Help!" 
 
 In response to her cry, the door burst open, 
 and Tom Andrews, followed by Nora, rushed 
 in. With a bound he had caught Ralph by the 
 back of the neck, and, shaking him like a rat, 
 threw him half across the room. 
 
 "You were a cowardly little rat at college, 
 and you haven't changed. Fighting women is 
 about all you're fit for! I think the best thing 
 I can do is " 
 
 "The best thing you can do," snarled Ralph, 
 struggling to his feet, "is to get out of my 
 house. And take your wife and that trollop, 
 your daughter, with you." 
 
 "Your house!" 
 
 "Yes! My house. And take the woman I'm 
 through with. I took her when she had noth- 
 ing. I gave her everything she wanted motors 
 and sables, an apartment and servants, and 
 money. But she couldn't be faithful even when
 
 LIFE 339 
 
 she was paid for it! So I'm kicking her out! 
 Take her back to the kitchen I took her from!" 
 
 With a furious gesture Andrews started for 
 him. 
 
 ' ' Tom ! Stop ! ' ' Nora threw herself between 
 them. 
 
 The door slammed. Ealph was gone. 
 
 At the sound of the slamming door, all of 
 the fight seemed to go out of the old man. With- 
 out so much as a look in his daughter's direc- 
 tion, he turned to his wife. 
 
 "Come, Mother. I guess that's all we can do 
 here!" 
 
 "Tom! She's our daughter, our Grade. 
 You ain't goin' to leave her here!" 
 
 "I guess she's showed she's able to take car* 
 of herself. She don 't want us ! " 
 
 "Tom!" 
 
 He didn't seem to hear her. He was fum- 
 bling with the watch and chain in his waistcoat. 
 
 "I didn't know where the money came from 
 that bought it. I couldn't wear it now!" He 
 laid the watch and chain on the table. ' l Mother, 
 give me that gold-handled umbrella!" He 
 threw it on the table beside the watch. "We're 
 clean people, your mother and me, and we don't 
 want things that were bought with money made 
 that way ! Come, Mother ! ' ' 
 
 A deep shudder shook Grace from head to 
 foot as she heard the umbrella strike the table. 
 But she had a last flash of defiance. 
 
 "Made that way! You were glad enough to
 
 340 LIFE 
 
 take the things, I notice! Your own common 
 sense must have told you that a girl couldn't 
 make presents like that out of a beggarly sal- 
 ary! But now that I'm found out, ex- 
 posed " 
 
 Both doors were thrown open. From the one 
 leading to her bedroom came Anderson and Bur- 
 nett, handcuffed to a policeman. From the 
 other came Kalph, an officer holding him by the 
 arm, and two men she had never seen. With 
 staring eyes she looked from one to the other. 
 
 "Can you identify this man?" demanded An- 
 derson of one of the strange men. 
 "I can, sir. On Christmas morning, my 
 friend and I were on our way home, after 
 after a rather jolly night. We were going down 
 Fifty-second Street, when that man came run- 
 ning along. He cursed us because we were in 
 his way. He knocked my friend down. I was 
 so angry that I ran part of the way after him. 
 I saw him get into the runabout whose number 
 I gave you. A woman was waiting for him. I 
 saw her lean out of the window. ' ' 
 
 "Is that woman here?" 
 
 "Yes, sir. There she is." 
 
 He pointed an accusing finger at Grace. 
 
 "That is all, thank you. I have traced the 
 number of the runabout to you, Grace Andrews. 
 Have you anything to say?" 
 
 Grace essayed to speak, but no sound came 
 from her parched lips. 
 
 "I'll break you for this outrage!" blustered
 
 LIFE 341 
 
 Burnett with a last desperate effort. "What 
 do you expect to charge me with, even if that 
 drunken fool's word is to be believed!" 
 
 "For the moment," said Anderson, "I expect 
 to charge you with the murder of Dutch Joe 
 Schmidt. And unless I am mistaken in my man, 
 by the time I have examined that sniveling little 
 shrimp over there" pointing to Ralph "I 
 expect to charge you with the murder of Wil- 
 liam Van Bennsselaer Stuyvesant ! Officer, take 
 both these men to the station house. And watch 
 them both carefully. They must not be allowed 
 to communicate with each other." 
 
 At a sign from him, the officers hustled their 
 prisoners out of the room, and Grace and her 
 parents were once more alone. 
 
 ' ' Grace ! ' ' Nora held out her motherly arms. 
 
 With a cry, Grace tottered forward and sank 
 sobbing at her mother 's feet.
 
 CHAPTER XXn 
 
 THEY had been riding since before dawn, and 
 they paused on a little rise of land to see the 
 sunrise the wonderful sunrise of Mexico. 
 
 He had been tormenting himself, as he some- 
 times did, with the thought of all she was de- 
 priving herself of, living this fugitive life with 
 him, far from the haunts of men, away from 
 all the luxuries that she had always known. 
 And she, for the thousandth time, was repeat- 
 ing that never before had she known what hap- 
 piness meant. 
 
 As they sat their horses, side by side, watch- 
 ing for the first glow, there came a voice halloo- 
 ing from the valley below, and the sound of 
 horses' hoofs ringing on the road they them- 
 selves had just climbed. 
 
 "Hel-lo! Hel-lo! Hel-lo! Bill Reid, hel-lo!" 
 
 For a moment all the warm color left Euth's 
 face. 
 
 "Darling! It sounds like " 
 
 "Like Dennis' voice!" he finished for her. 
 
 Trembling, fearing, hoping they scarcely 
 knew what, they waited, her arm protectingly 
 over his shoulder. 
 
 Straining their eyes, they peered down the 
 winding road. Presently two figures came in 
 sight. As they appeared around the turn of 
 
 342
 
 LIFE 343 
 
 the road, one of them snatched off his hat and 
 waved it over his head. It was O'Brien, and 
 with him a Mexican guide whom they had sev- 
 eral times employed. 
 
 "Hel-lo, Bill Reid! Good news! A pardon 
 from the Governor ! ' ' 
 
 A pardon from the Governor! Ruth burst 
 into a passion of tears. 
 
 A half hour later, when O'Brien had told 
 them all the news, and how Mr. MacLaren had 
 sent him down after them, they rode off a little 
 way together, their arms entwined. 
 
 Ruth sat looking off into the East, still glori- 
 ous with the light of the new day. 
 
 "Never, beloved, if we live to be very, very 
 old, will we see a sunrise that means what this 
 has meant to us!" 
 
 THE END
 
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