LIBRARY 
 
 "SSSS* 
 
 SAN oteoo
 
 THE STUMBLING BLOCK
 
 A NOVEL 
 
 BY 
 
 HENRY H. HARPER 
 
 THIS VOLUME IS J UINTKI) ONLY JN A LIMITED EDITION, FOR 
 OMPL1MENT.4RY DISTRIBUTION BY THK AUTHOR 
 
 BOSTON MDCDXII
 
 Copyright, 1912 
 
 BY HENRY H. HARPER 
 
 All rights reserved
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER I THE WEDDING 
 
 II SOCIAL AMBITIONS 
 
 III "My FATHER A MURDERER!" 
 
 IV KITTY BELLINGER 
 V THE PANIC 
 
 VI AN INTOLERABLE SITUATION 
 
 VII THE GOOD-BY NOTE 
 
 VIII THE MAN-HUNT 
 
 IX TOM MAKES A DISCOVERY 
 
 X THE TRAIL OF THE SUICIDE 
 
 XI THE VEILED WOMAN IN THE SHADOWS 
 
 XII THE TURNING POINT 
 
 XIII A COZY BREAKFAST FOR Two 
 
 XIV KITTY S VERSATILITY 
 XV THE HAUNTED CAVES 
 
 XVI THE MYSTERIOUS LETTER 
 
 XVII WHAT THE DEVIL HATH JOINED TO 
 GETHER 
 
 XVIII THE FRUITS OF INFELICITY 
 
 XIX MRS. FARNSWORTH S HUMILIATION 
 
 XX THINGS LOOK SUSPICIOUS TO TOM 
 
 XXI THE NEWCOMERS 
 
 XXII THE PRICE OF A FRENCH COUNT 
 
 XXIII BLIGHTED HOPES OF SOCIAL EMINENCE 
 
 XXIV THE CONSOLIDATION
 
 CHAPTER I 
 THE WEDDING 
 
 Margaret Benson s early childhood was spent in a 
 small town in the western part of New York State. 
 Her expressive dark eyes and rare beauty were her 
 sole heritage from her mother, who was the daughter 
 of a distinguished Kentucky family. From her 
 father, of whom less could be said, she inherited the 
 traits that were ultimately to dominate her character 
 and disposition. 
 
 Shortly after the death of her mother, when Mar 
 garet was fourteen years old, she was taken to New 
 York City and placed in charge of a woman who con 
 ducted a lodging house on the East Side, where she 
 attended public school. She saw but little of her 
 father, who came to see her at uncertain intervals, 
 and she knew nothing of his business or financial 
 resources, except that her spending money was very 
 meagre, and the amount allowed for her board and 
 clothes only covered the barest necessaries. Though 
 only fourteen years of age her slender, prematurely 
 developed stature and the matureness of her features 
 gave her the appearance of seventeen. 
 
 There being no other children at her boarding place 
 she found the atmosphere ill suited to her age and 
 temperament. She felt keenly the loss of her mother s 
 
 7
 
 CHAPTER ONE 
 
 tender care, at an age when a mother s influence and 
 advice are such important needs in a girl s life, and 
 many of her evenings were spent in tearful retrospec 
 tion in her little room up three flights of uncarpeted 
 stairs. After a few months of this lonely existence 
 she returned home from school one afternoon to find a 
 well dressed, distinguished looking woman waiting for 
 her in the sitting room. 
 
 "You are Margaret Benson?" asked the woman, as 
 she advanced smilingly with outstretched hand. 
 
 "Yes," she said timidly. 
 
 "And I am Mrs. Grayson-Howells. I was a girl 
 hood friend of your mother, and my sister married her 
 brother; so you see I am your aunt by marriage. 
 Both my sister and her husband have been dead for 
 many years. On returning from abroad a few days 
 ago I found a letter from your father telling me about 
 you." 
 
 "Oh, then you know my father?" 
 
 "No, I never met him, but I knew your mother s 
 family." 
 
 "Yes, I ve heard my mother speak of you; she said 
 how rich you were, while she poor mother!" she 
 said, as the tears welled in her eyes, "she was so un 
 happy." And she burst into sobs. 
 
 "Yes, poor dear, it was an unkind Fate that cut her 
 off from all her girlhood associates. I never saw her 
 after she married. But what a dear, charming child 
 
 8
 
 THE WEDDING 
 
 you are ! The perfect image of your mother as I first 
 knew her." 
 
 "Oh, thank you," she said modestly. "Please 
 excuse me for crying but I m so lonesome and un 
 happy here, with no children around. The Saturdays 
 and Sundays and evenings seem so long." 
 
 "Yes, poor child, I know you must be unhappy" - 
 as she glanced about the room "but you shall not 
 remain so for long. I am just opening my town house 
 for the holidays, and should like you to come and take 
 luncheon with me next Saturday. My nephew will be 
 home from college and spend his holiday season with 
 me. A little later I shall close my town house and go 
 south for the remainder of the winter; but in the 
 meantime I hope to comply with your father s request 
 and find you a home with some friend. 
 
 "Now, goodby, dear; I will arrange with the land 
 lady to let you come, and will send my carriage for 
 you Saturday morning at ten." 
 
 When she had gone Margaret hurried up to her 
 room, wondering what kind of a home her new friend 
 had, and how she could afford to keep a home that 
 she didn t live in except at short intervals. She was 
 radiant with happiness at the thought of dining with 
 her mother s aristocratic girlhood friend, and she waited 
 with impatience for Saturday. 
 
 The carriage was waiting at the appointed time, 
 and on arriving at the Fifth Avenue home of Mrs.
 
 CHAPTER ONE 
 
 Grayson-Howells, Margaret was introduced to Jeffer 
 son Dalney Farnsworth, a young man of nineteen, 
 just home from Cambridge, and spending the Christmas 
 vacation season with his widowed aunt. He was an 
 orphan, and the sole heir to a large estate left in trust 
 by his father, to be turned over to him on reaching 
 maturity. Jeff had a keen eye for the beautiful in 
 femininity, and he was at once captivated by the 
 simple manners and remarkable beauty of "Miss 
 Benson," as he called her when speaking to his aunt 
 about her after she had gone. 
 
 "By George! Aunt Lucy, if she doesn t break some 
 body s heart it won t be the fault of that pair of eyes 
 of hers," he said. 
 
 "Why, Jeff, she s only a child, scarcely in her teens 
 yet." 
 
 "Oh, come now, auntie, don t tell me that 
 scarcely out of her teens, you mean." 
 
 "I ought to know; her mother was an intimate 
 friend of mine. We went to boarding school together 
 sixteen years ago, before she was married to that 
 scamp of a Benson. After enduring him for fifteen 
 years she died broken-hearted. He imposed on her 
 relatives and friends, and cheated your uncle and 
 everybody else out of every dollar he could borrow 
 from them." 
 
 "Just the same, he has a mighty pretty daughter," 
 remarked Jeff, coming gallantly to Margaret s defence. 
 
 10
 
 THE WEDDING 
 
 "Yes, she s as much like her mother was at her age 
 as two people could be alike. It s a pity she s handi 
 capped by such a father. He had the boldness to 
 write to me and ask if I would do something for 
 Margaret for the sake of my friendship for her dead 
 mother. I ll gladly help Margaret, but only on con 
 dition that he keeps entirely away from her, and out 
 of my sight." 
 
 "Why not send her to Miss Hilton s boarding 
 school?" inquired Jeff, who was manifesting a growing 
 interest in the affair. "Then tell her father he mustn t 
 show his face around there, or he ll get it broken." 
 
 "But Miss Hilton s is a very expensive school; and 
 then I don t know that there s a vacancy." 
 
 "Oh, pshaw! with your pull you could get her in 
 any school in New York City." 
 
 Callers being announced, the discussion ended ab 
 ruptly. During the evening Jeff seemed lost in his 
 own meditations, and took but little interest in the 
 conversation. Later, when their friends had gone he 
 re-opened the matter by asking abruptly 
 
 "Say Aunt Lucy will you do me a favor?" 
 
 "Yes, Jeff, what is it?" as she looked up in 
 surprise. 
 
 "You get Miss Benson into that school, and have 
 the bills sent to Mr. Barton; and I ll direct him to 
 pay them on my account. This is the first chance I 
 ever had to do a decent act, and I d like to take 
 
 11
 
 CHAPTER ONE 
 
 advantage of it. But don t let her know that I m 
 doing it." 
 
 "Why, Jeff! what would your frugal father say of 
 such munificence if he were living?" 
 
 "Well, he was always mighty good to me, even if he 
 was sometimes accused of being close-fisted, and if 
 there s such a thing as a hereafter, I d like to make his 
 lot a little easier by making good use of part of the 
 money he left. And then how do you know but I 
 have some selfish motive? I don t want to rob you of 
 the chance of doing a kind act, but I remember a 
 story I once read in a book, and I just want to see 
 how the idea will work out in real life." 
 
 "Very well, Jeff, I ll do as you wish," she said after 
 some further discussion, "and even if it should work 
 out badly, you will at least have done a generous deed." 
 
 Five years passed. Margaret, who was known as 
 one of the most beautiful and best dressed girls in 
 Miss Hilton s exclusive boarding school, was under the 
 sponsorship and chaperonage of Mrs. Grayson-Howells. 
 Young Farnsworth, after receiving his degree at Har 
 vard, spent a year traveling abroad, where he was joined 
 by his aunt and Margaret ; and before returning home 
 the engagement of the young couple was cabled by Mrs. 
 Grayson-Howells and announced in the New York 
 papers. The wedding, which took place shortly ?.fter 
 Margaret s graduation early the following June, was 
 
 12
 
 THE WEDDING 
 
 heralded far and wide as one of the society events of the 
 season. The happy pair then went abroad for a year. 
 
 Jeff succeeded in demonstrating to his own satis 
 faction that the story he read in earlier years could 
 have been borrowed from life ; for the hero and heroine 
 therein, after many misunderstandings and hair 
 breadth escapes from separation, got married and 
 "lived happily ever after." So would he and Margaret 
 do likewise, but minus the numerous trials and vicissi 
 tudes, which he declared to his aunt were merely 
 "lugged in to lengthen out the story," and were no 
 part of real life. 
 
 Margaret s father was supposed by her to have 
 become a wealthy mine operator in the West, and to 
 have paid, through Stephen Barton, Trustee, all her 
 lavish expenses during her four years at school. As a 
 matter of fact, he had been sent away out West and 
 provided with expense money, while prospecting in 
 the mining regions. Shortly after Margaret s engage 
 ment was announced of which fact he had been 
 advised by her he borrowed a large sum of money 
 from young Farnsworth to buy some promising mining 
 claims he had rounded up in Colorado. Several times 
 he had been in New York and seen his prospective son- 
 in-law, but had always gone away without calling on 
 his daughter, though in her letters, sent to him at his 
 western address, she often asked why he never came to 
 see her. 
 
 13
 
 CHAPTER II 
 SOCIAL AMBITIONS 
 
 After an absence of nearly a year in Europe young 
 Farnsworth and his bride returned to New York and 
 proceeded at once to establish themselves in a home, 
 and to make preparations for a coming event of great 
 domestic importance. It was a boy, christened 
 Thomas, after its paternal grandfather ; and if it could 
 be said that it were possible to discover any one con 
 sideration or condition that would add to the happiness 
 of this ideal pair of lovers, that one desideratum was 
 found in the birth of a son and heir, cementing their 
 matrimonial bonds into a perfect unit. Health, 
 wealth, happiness, and social position all smiled in 
 benign unison upon the family trio. As the proud 
 husband and father stood by the bedside of the con 
 valescing young mother and gazed into her lustrous 
 dark eyes, fringed by their long lashes, contrasting 
 sharply with the slight pallor of her cheeks, and thought 
 of ihe complete happiness she had brought him, his 
 cup seemed full to overflowing. 
 
 To his aunt he had remarked :"I tell you, Aunt Lucy, 
 the thing to do is to pick out a wife when she s in her 
 early teens, and have her educated and brought up 
 according to your own ideas. Then when you get 
 married you know just what you ve got. These hasty 
 
 14
 
 SOCIAL AMBITIONS 
 
 marriages among persons who neither know nor under 
 stand each other too often result in disagreements 
 and divorces. Margaret s a good, sensible girl not 
 one of those flippant society debutantes with their 
 minds filled with nothing but society chatter." 
 
 But in reasoning thus the young philosopher failed 
 to consider two important facts: that his wife was of 
 the flesh and blood of William Benson; and that she 
 was soon to be cast into the maelstrom of a social 
 stratum for which her ambition and physical charms 
 were her only inherent qualifications. For those who 
 are born and brought up in this social atmosphere, 
 love, marriage and maternal cares are often hailed as 
 a welcome diversion ; but a beautiful, unsophisticated 
 young woman of Margaret s temperament who marries 
 into the social whirl must have a better balanced mind 
 than hers in order to withstand the influences of such 
 environments and not be led astray by flatteries and 
 vanities. The moment the breezes of the new social 
 realms inflated her sails, even with her indulgent hus 
 band as helmsman, she was like a yacht cast adrift 
 without a rudder. 
 
 She found that many of her newly made acquaint 
 ances, though older than she in years, were much 
 younger in actions, and still enjoying their girlhood 
 freedom. Very few even of those who were married 
 were encumbered with maternal cares. At the after 
 noon affairs the matrons discussed their "lines" and 
 
 15
 
 CHAPTER TWO 
 
 figure measurements, and remarked how damaging to 
 these was the bearing of children early in life. She 
 surveyed her own still girlish figure in the large mirror, 
 and resolutely decided to take no more chances on 
 this score. 
 
 The baby was turned over to the exclusive care of 
 those in charge of the nursery, and every time she 
 looked at it she thought how its advent into the world 
 might have ruined her figure! At first the baby had 
 furnished almost the sole topic of conversation with 
 her acquaintances, but later it was seldom inquired 
 after by them, and never referred to by her. If the 
 nursery door happened to be ajar and she heard it cry, 
 it irritated her. Shortly after she began going out in 
 society she remarked one evening to her husband, - 
 
 "Dalney, do you know, I think it s a shame, I never 
 even had a coming-out party." 
 
 "Never mind, dear," as he pulled her down into his 
 lap, "you are none the worse for it. You re out now. 
 If a coming-out party had made you any more popular 
 than you are I d scarcely get a chance to see you at 
 all. You see we were married so soon after you 
 graduated that we didn t have time for such formali 
 ties. I was so crazy in love with you that I couldn t 
 have thought of waiting over another season." 
 
 "Yes, that s it;" she said as she freed herself from 
 his embrace and got up, "you should have considered 
 those matters. Look at Edna Hertz; she made a 
 
 16
 
 SOCIAL AMBITIONS 
 
 grand debut, and now she s abroad being courted by a 
 nobleman. And her father hasn t any more money 
 than mine has. She didn t have half the spending 
 money at school that I had. Then she s homely, too 
 compared with me," she pouted. "If I had only " 
 
 "Why, Midge! what has come over you? Do you 
 know what you re saying?" as he sprang to his feet 
 with an agonized look in his face. 
 
 "Oh, please forgive me, Dalney," as she put her 
 arms about his neck, and snuggled close up to his 
 breast to avoid his astonished gaze. "I really don t 
 know what I was saying, or thinking about. I m not 
 at all well; I m feverish and my head is killing me 
 tonight," she complained, for the first time during the 
 evening. 
 
 "I don t believe my little wife has been quite herself 
 for some time," he said sympathetically, as he placed 
 his hand caressingly on her forehead, which was as 
 free from fever as a stone. "This society business has 
 unstrung your nerves. I think I ll take you South for 
 a few weeks where you can get a good rest, and we can 
 be more to ourselves." 
 
 "But how can you get away from your business?" 
 she asked, terror-stricken at the thought of cancelling 
 her social engagements. 
 
 "My business has not grown to be of so much im 
 portance to me that I m going to allow it to interfere 
 with your health and happiness. You and our home 
 
 17
 
 CHAPTER TWO 
 
 come first, then business. My partner can take care 
 of that. He s furnished most of the brains anyway, 
 so far. Get your things ready and we ll go next 
 week." 
 
 "Why, Dalney, you dear boy, it would take me a 
 month to get ready. The dressmakers are all busy 
 and " 
 
 "Oh, nonsense, by that time it will be spring. Wear 
 the same dresses you did last winter. You ve kept 
 your figure admirably, and most of them you never 
 wore but once. If necessary we can go to a different 
 place. I d like a quieter place anyway, where we can 
 be more together." 
 
 He was so insistent that she saw it would be neces 
 sary to use her most artful powers of dissuasion, and 
 she resorted to them. 
 
 "Now, Dalney, dear," as she pushed him into a chair 
 and knelt before him, gazing up into his eyes, while 
 her hands toyed mechanically with his watch charm 
 "Dalney, dearest, I should just love to go South, and 
 it s awfully sweet of you to leave your business and 
 take me ; but really, we wouldn t see any more of each 
 other than right here in our cozy little home, without 
 a lot of hotel people around to annoy us. Having you 
 love me makes my head feel better already; and if 
 you ll just kiss me once behind each ear, I m sure it 
 won t ache a bit longer. And it s been two whole 
 days, you naughty boy, since you kissed my eyes," 
 
 18
 
 SOCIAL AMBITIONS 
 
 He clasped her in his arms and kissed her, not once, 
 twice, - but twenty times, on her lips, cheeks, chin, 
 throat, eyes and behind both ears, until she shook her 
 self free and gasped for breath. 
 
 "Now, just once right there on the tip for good 
 luck," she said, as she tilted her head back and touched 
 the point of her dainty little nose. 
 
 "Thank you. Now I feel all better; and I don t 
 have to go down South in those old dusty, smoky trains 
 and stay cooped up in an old hotel, do I, hubby dear?" 
 
 "No, you little witch, of course you don t." 
 
 That night while his wife lay sleeping serenely, Farns- 
 worth spent several wakeful hours in serious medita 
 tion. "What has come over her of late?" he mused. 
 
 She evidently knew his one great weakness his 
 idolatrous love for her, and ever since she began go 
 ing out in society, after their child was born, she had 
 played upon this vulnerable spot whenever she found 
 it necessary to gain his acquiescence in accomplishing 
 any purpose. This time she had forgotten her tactful- 
 ness and claimed her point so quickly following her 
 theatrical love demonstration that her motive was 
 plainly evident. 
 
 "And yet, every time she stages that little farce," 
 he mused, "I fall into line and do the heroic lover act 
 in dead earnest, forgetting for the moment that she s 
 only acting her part. But why does she object so to 
 going South?" 
 
 19
 
 CHAPTER TWO 
 
 Since one of her school friends had been smiled upon 
 by some impecunious off-shoot of royalty she had re 
 peatedly hinted that she thought it a mistake for a 
 girl with an independent income to allow herself to be 
 hurried into matrimony before having an opportunity 
 of enjoying the gaieties of life, and traveling abroad 
 where she could meet people of the "higher social 
 position." Early marriages, she said, were only for 
 poor girls who need protection and pecuniary support. 
 The frequency with which she flaunted her father s 
 wealth and prodigality was especially exasperating, - 
 the more so because, although his mining operations 
 had now made him rich, he had not only refused to 
 pay back any part of the last loan of fifty thousand 
 dollars, but he became highly indignant and even in 
 sulting when asked to do so. To spare Margaret s 
 feelings, Farnsworth had refrained from suing on her 
 father s note, for this would reveal the secret, of which 
 as yet she knew nothing. 
 
 Next morning Farnsworth breakfasted alone, as 
 usual of late, and went directly to the home of his 
 aunt. 
 
 "Aunt Lucy, I ve just got to talk with someone or I 
 shall explode," he began; "and as you re the only one 
 who knows anything or rather, everything about 
 my affairs I came to you." 
 
 After describing Margaret s actions of the previous 
 night, she dispelled his apprehensions by saying that 
 
 20
 
 SOCIAL AMBITIONS 
 
 Margaret was still young, and would outgrow her 
 foolish notions. 
 
 "Why, Jeff, she s but a mere child; you must be 
 patient with her whims. She ll soon get over these 
 social follies. Every pretty girl brought out in society 
 becomes inoculated with this virus sooner or later ; but 
 it s easily cured, as a general thing." 
 
 An hour later he called Margaret up on the phone 
 from his office to inquire how she felt. Her maid 
 reported her still in bed, but she would call her. After 
 a long wait he heard her languid voice answer, 
 "Hello, what is it, Dalney?" 
 
 "Oh, nothing!" he said as he clapped the receiver on 
 the hook. A little later he called her again and 
 apologized for his abruptness. 
 
 Under his impending threat of taking her South, 
 and thus interrupting her social activities, Margaret 
 ceased her fault-finding and peevishness for a few 
 weeks, and at times appeared more like herself of old. 
 She had not yet arrived at the stage of open defiance 
 and disregard of his expressed wishes, for she still had 
 a lingering fondness for his love, his considerateness, 
 and his gifts of jewelry, all of which he was constantly 
 showering upon her. But in due time she again 
 lapsed into a state of inertia in the household, and re 
 fused to be enticed or driven out of it. 
 
 Fortunately, the banking firm of Farnsworth & 
 Company with an old time friend of his father as 
 
 21
 
 CHAPTER TWO 
 
 managing partner was growing rapidly and as the 
 home life grew less congenial the office duties became 
 more engrossing. His wife took no interest what 
 ever in his business affairs, and he concerned himself 
 as little as possible with her social engagements, ex 
 cept as he was called upon evenings to act as her 
 escort. 
 
 Days, weeks and months dragged on, marked by 
 indifference on her part, and constant solicitude and 
 forbearance on his. They were spending the summer 
 at their new country home up the Hudson. She 
 declared that he had selfishly "buried" her in the 
 country, where he could have her all to himself, away 
 from her friends and associates ; that she would rather 
 live in an attic room in the city than amid all the luxury 
 of the ample grounds, flower gardens, groves and drives 
 on their country estate. 
 
 "I ll be glad when fall comes and I can get out of 
 this detestable hole," she said after he had spent a 
 fortune on the place. 
 
 One afternoon early in September, on reaching home 
 by an earlier train than usual, Farnsworth found his 
 wife in tears. On looking up with startled eyes and 
 quivering lips as he entered she hastily seized and 
 crumpled in her hand a letter that lay in her lap, then 
 left the room abruptly without even giving him the 
 perfunctory kiss. As he stood staring open-mouthed 
 at her departing figure a hundred conjectures flashed 
 
 22
 
 SOCIAL AMBITIONS 
 
 across his mind. Turning about he saw a plain white 
 envelope lying on the floor beside her chair. On it he 
 saw his wife s name written in a bold, and apparently 
 disguised, masculine hand. It was addressed to a 
 private box at the New York post office. 
 
 23
 
 CHAPTER III 
 "MY FATHER A MURDERER!" 
 
 When her husband arose and went into his dressing 
 room next morning Mrs. Farnsworth pretended to be 
 asleep ; but later when she heard him leave the house 
 she jumped up quickly, and as the carriage disappeared 
 down the driveway she went in quest of the letter she 
 had hidden on the previous afternoon. Falling into an 
 easy chair she reread it, carefully weighing the signifi 
 cance of every word. When she had concluded she 
 groaned, "God help me ! A murderer ! My own 
 father a murderer! Oh, oh ! I can t believe it and 
 yet there s his confession written by his own hand. 
 And so that s why he changed his name to Gordon 
 Dempsey! Why, in Heaven s name, is he coming to 
 me, I wonder ! Why doesn t he go and jump into 
 the ocean, or anywhere to avoid capture, identification 
 and disgrace ! The papers will be full of it ! If they 
 catch him I ll be publicly disgraced ruined forever. 
 I must explain to Dalney, and we ll hunt a secluded 
 spot in some remote corner of the earth where we ll 
 never see anyone we know. All my fond hopes 
 blasted God ! It will kill me !" 
 
 She walked over and threw the letter into the grate, 
 and watched it as the flames consumed it ; then as the 
 charred embers curled and cracked, and finally melted 
 
 24
 
 "MY FATHER A MURDERER1" 
 
 into ashes, "And he ll be here this morning," she 
 murmured. "What a gloomy home-coming after a 
 seven years absence!" 
 
 She was startled out of her reveries by the ring of 
 her private telephone bell, which she now dreaded to 
 answer. She wondered if the servant receiving the 
 call down stairs would listen while she talked to him. 
 She answered the call, and the instant she hung up the 
 receiver she rang for the butler. 
 
 "Simpson, in a few minutes a gentleman will call. 
 Show him at once into the drawing room." 
 
 As the butler left, her maid appeared with the break 
 fast tray. Although not a hearty eater, Margaret was 
 consistently regular in her meals and scrupulously 
 careful of her diet. Since Mrs. St. George had be 
 stowed genuine and unstinted praise upon her "won 
 derful complexion and figure" she had rarely allowed 
 any ailment, either physical or mental, to penetrate as 
 deep as her stomach, or to interfere with her sleep. 
 She was determined never to have wrinkles, and she 
 rarely took anything seriously to heart, except 
 society, and nothing was ever permitted to disturb 
 her equanimity for long at a time. Then, too, she was 
 paying strict heed to the carefully prescribed rules of 
 "how to cure giggling, smiling and spontaneous laugh 
 ter," all common faults in the "lower order of society," 
 and all productive of wrinkles, and destructive of 
 beauty. She made it a practice never to smile when 
 
 25
 
 CHAPTER THREE 
 
 speaking, even pleasantly, to a servant in the house ; 
 hence she was known in the common parlance of the 
 household servants as "The Sphinx." None of them 
 loved her, none of them feared her, all of them respected 
 her merely as the wife of the kind-hearted "Master of 
 the house" whom they, one and all, loved and respected. 
 
 After finishing her breakfast she dressed hurriedly 
 and started down. As she approached the foot of the 
 stairs she heard loud talking in the back hall, then a 
 shuffling noise as if a struggle was taking place ; then 
 the back door slammed shut. The butler came in 
 much excited. 
 
 "What is the matter, Simpson?" 
 
 "There s a crazy man out there that says he must 
 see you. He pushed in past me, and I threw him out 
 the door, madam." 
 
 She stamped her foot and her eyes flamed with 
 indignation. 
 
 "Didn t I tell you to show him in at once?" 
 
 "I understood you to say a gentleman, madam." 
 
 "Show him to the drawing room this instant," she 
 commanded. 
 
 Simpson turned reluctantly and obeyed. She hur 
 ried to the drawing room and stood trembling with 
 agitation. In a moment Simpson appeared at the 
 door with a slovenly-dressed thick-set man with 
 shaggy, grizzled beard, and an old slouch hat pulled 
 down over his bloodshot eyes. 
 
 26
 
 "MY FATHER A MURDERER I" 
 
 "Oh, my God!" she shrieked, and shrank back in 
 terror, as the bulky form of her father appeared inside 
 the door. 
 
 "Shall I stand at the door, madam?" asked the 
 butler. 
 
 "No ; draw them shut." 
 
 "Do the servants know?" her father asked excitedly. 
 
 "No ; they know nothing. Why didn t you come in 
 at the front door?" 
 
 "I came in past the stables at the back gateway. I 
 believe I ve been followed here," he said, as he glanced 
 stealthily about the room, his hat still pulled down 
 over his eyes. 
 
 "Great Heavens ! I hope they don t arrest you here," 
 she exclaimed, and going to the folding doors she 
 locked them. "You are taking a great risk in coming 
 here. This is the first place they would think of watch 
 ing for you. There was a strange man probably a 
 detective here yesterday pretending to be looking 
 for a position as butler." 
 
 "They ll never take me alive, and I ll kill the first 
 one that tries it," he said warningly as he put his hand 
 to his hip pocket. Then from his inside pocket he 
 drew forth a large package of papers and handed them 
 to her. "Here, take these and have some reliable 
 broker not your husband, mind you sell them, 
 and put the money in two or three banks, in your name. 
 They re all indorsed and witnessed, so all you ve got 
 
 27
 
 CHAPTER THREE 
 
 to do is to sell them. They may get my dead body, but 
 I ll be damned if they get these." 
 
 She took the package and fumbled it nervously with 
 her fingers as she stared at him in stupefied amaze 
 ment. 
 
 "Mind you," said he, pointing to the package she 
 held, "not a dollar of that money for your husband. 
 I ve had enough of him I wouldn t trust him with 
 one penny. He ll be claiming it all as his, and try to 
 beat you out of it but don t you believe him not 
 a word he says. Not a penny to him swear it I 
 not a penny hear me do you promise?" 
 
 "Y ye s, I promise," she said, with a shudder at 
 the sight of his gruesome, distorted features. 
 
 "Am I awake? Or is this only a horrible dream? 
 Can this be my father?" she was asking herself, now 
 that her reasoning faculties were slowly returning. 
 He went on 
 
 "Don t believe the newspapers they lie. It was 
 in self-defense, as I wrote you honest to God it was ; 
 he d have killed me." 
 
 He shouted his words so loud and excitedly that she 
 cautioned him that the servants had ears, and were 
 probably all listening. 
 
 "I ll write you," he whispered hoarsely, "when I 
 want money. Gordon Dempsey that s my name, 
 you know. And remember, not a word to your 
 husband about " 
 
 28
 
 "MY FATHER A MURDERER!" 
 
 A rap at the door startled them. She went to the 
 folding doors and without unlocking them, called, - 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 "An officer," answered Simpson s voice. "He s 
 found your lost dog." 
 
 The last words were drowned by a pistol shot behind 
 her, and turning quickly she saw her father stagger 
 and fall to the floor. With a piercing shriek she fell 
 fainting against the folding doors. 
 
 Finding the doors locked, Simpson threw his weight 
 against them, but they refused to give way. The 
 policeman rushed in to his aid, but their combined 
 strength was inadequate. 
 
 "The window!" shouted Simpson, and they both 
 rushed out onto the veranda, followed by two of the 
 maids who came hurrying into the hall. Simpson 
 plunged in through the window, carrying glass, sash 
 and all with him, and a ghastly sight met his eyes. 
 
 "He s killed her ! I knew he d do it ! I knew he d 
 do it! He s crazy as a loon I told her so!" he ex 
 claimed as he ran frantically back and forth from one 
 body to the other. 
 
 "I heard only one shot," said the officer, who had 
 followed Simpson in. "Maybe she ain t dead," as he 
 raised Margaret s limp figure and looked for the wound. 
 She was carried to her room and soon revived by the 
 maids. A doctor was summoned from the village and 
 Mr. Farnsworth was notified by telephone. 
 
 29
 
 CHAPTER THREE 
 
 In searching the body the coroner discovered a con 
 siderable sum of money mostly in bills of large de 
 nomination, and several letters written in a feminine 
 hand on plain note paper, directed to Gordon Dempsey 
 in different localities. They were all addressed "Dear 
 Dad," undated, unsigned, and postmarked New York 
 City. 
 
 In an hour Farnsworth arrived, and Margaret having 
 rallied her senses by sheer force, met him at the front 
 door. Her only sign was to place her index finger 
 perpendicularly across her lips and point with the other 
 hand toward the drawing room door. Hurrying there 
 he saw a sheet spread over the figure, still lying on the 
 floor, and as he raised the edge of the covering he al 
 most collapsed when he stared into the gruesome face 
 of his dead father-in-law. The butler explained that 
 the man was crazy and had killed himself in the room. 
 He beckoned Mr. Farnsworth aside and handed him a 
 bundle of papers with the remark, 
 
 "I found these on the floor in the room where he 
 shot himself. They look valuable, and I didn t know 
 but they might be Mrs. Farnsworth s, so I picked them 
 up quick and put them in my pocket. The policeman 
 didn t see them, sir," he added in an undertone. 
 
 Farnsworth glanced through the certificates and 
 gasped with astonishment to find that they represented 
 a market value of nearly half a million dollars. But he 
 was much puzzled to find that they were all what is 
 
 30
 
 "MY FATHER A MURDERER I" 
 
 known as "Street Certificates," that is, made out in 
 the name of different brokerage houses, and by them 
 indorsed in blank, so they were negotiable, and could 
 be sold or exchanged for new stock by the bearer 
 presenting them. 
 
 "Thank you, Simpson. You judged correctly; 
 these evidently belong to Mrs. Farnsworth. You will 
 be suitably rewarded. But what happened to your 
 face? Did you have a tussle with him?" 
 
 "I did it breaking through the window into the room, 
 sir," he replied. 
 
 When the coroner came to remove the body, Mr. 
 Farnsworth said that inasmuch as the poor fellow had 
 killed himself in his home he would like to have the 
 privilege of giving his remains a respectable burial, 
 and the request was readily granted. The money 
 found was turned over to the authorities. 
 
 Mrs. Farnsworth was stricken down with nervous 
 collapse and did not leave the house for six weeks after 
 the tragedy. During this time her husband scarcely 
 left her, except when the nurses, fearing for his own 
 health, coaxed him away for a few hours at a time 
 under the pretense that the peculiar nature of his wife s 
 illness demanded it. Almost her first words upon re 
 covering from her delirium were to inquire about the 
 bundle of papers. Her husband assured her that he 
 had sent them to the city and they were secure in the 
 safe deposit vault. 
 
 31
 
 CHAPTER THREE 
 
 "But, Midge, my dear, they may get burned up or 
 stolen if you keep them here," he reasoned with her, 
 when she asked that they be sent for at once. She 
 insisted, however, and in order to humor her whim, 
 the package was sent for and handed over to her. 
 
 "You must have the stock transferred into your 
 name," he said, "in order to collect the dividends." 
 But from that day Mr. Farnsworth never saw any of 
 the securities nor the proceeds from their sale; and 
 her father s name was never mentioned between them. 
 She managed her own fortune as independently of her 
 husband and his advice as if he had been a stranger to 
 her. The accumulation of interest and dividends was 
 added to the principal, and never drawn upon. 
 
 32
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 KITTY BELLINGER 
 
 After a lapse of fifteen years from the time of the 
 tragedy in the foregoing chapter, the Farnsworths are 
 living in their large new corner house on Riverside 
 Drive. During the interim Mr. Farnsworth s aunt and 
 his business partner have passed away, and he has 
 taken into the partnership a Mr. Burleigh, who for 
 many years had been his chief clerk and confidential 
 man. The firm of Farnsworth & Co., counted as one 
 of the strong, conservative banking concerns of the 
 metropolis, has enjoyed seventeen years of continued 
 prosperity. 
 
 The fleeting years have brought no improvement in 
 the growing infelicities of the Farnsworth household. 
 Tom, the idol of his father s heart, is in his freshman 
 year at Harvard. Mr. Farnsworth as he now appears, 
 is a tall, well groomed, typical man of affairs. The 
 lineaments of his clean-shaven face are regular, and 
 his finely shaped head well poised on a pair of rather 
 broad shoulders. Mrs. Farnsworth, upon whose face 
 and faultless figure Father Time has cast no shadowy 
 traces, is still known among the servants as the 
 immutable household sphinx. She has lost none of 
 the consciousness of her physical charms, and secure 
 in the confidence of her husband s unalterable love and 
 
 33
 
 CHAPTER FOUR 
 
 indulgence, she has not in recent years felt called upon 
 to exert herself to the extent of resorting, even inter 
 mittently, to her counterfeit manifestations of recipro 
 cal love. Since the first eighteen months of married 
 life she has usually been too warm or too cold, too busy 
 or too sick, too tired or too sleepy to be caressed. 
 
 "Such actions," she told her would-be-lover hus 
 band, "are for newly-married couples not for people 
 settled in life." 
 
 If their life has of late years been marked by a 
 gradually increasing indifference on her part and a 
 corresponding tendency toward dignity and reserve 
 upon his, their existence has been in no sense a quarrel 
 some one. Both have found occupation in their indi 
 vidual hobbies she in her social life, he in his busi 
 ness. About the only point upon which they openly 
 disagreed was in regard to the amount of money he 
 "wasted on charity." She sometimes found fault 
 with him for what she termed his "absurd generosity" 
 to strangers, when there were so many jewels and other 
 personal adornments she wanted; though in point of 
 fact she spent his money with unrestrained prodigality, 
 and was the most expensively gowned and jewelled 
 woman in her set. 
 
 One afternoon early in May, just after Farnsworth 
 & Company had engaged a new stenographer, a young 
 woman of perhaps twenty-one, dressed in black, came 
 
 34
 
 KITTY BELLINGER 
 
 in and asked to see Mr. Farnsworth. Without notic 
 ing her particularly, the office man at the desk near 
 the door said, "The position has just been filled." 
 
 "But could I see Mr. Farnsworth personally?" she 
 said timidly, "my father was an old friend of his." 
 Looking up he hastened to apologize, and explained 
 that during the day a number of young women had 
 applied for the position of stenographer, and without 
 noticing her he thought she had come for the place. 
 
 "Please tell Mr. Farnsworth that I am Harvey 
 Bellinger s daughter," she said politely. He disap 
 peared, and returning a few moments later he led the 
 way to the private office of Mr. Farnsworth, who rose 
 from his desk and greeting her cordially, offered her a 
 chair. 
 
 "I am indeed glad to meet the daughter of my old- 
 time friend, and trust that I may be of some service to 
 you," he said. 
 
 She hesitated as if uncertain how to begin. "I m 
 sorry to trouble you, since I arrived too late to get the 
 position, but I ve heard my father speak of you so 
 often that I felt as if I could come to you for advice. 
 Possibly you might be able to tell me where I could get 
 a position." 
 
 Mr. Farnsworth gasped with astonishment. "Why, 
 your father was a rich man do you mean to tell me 
 you have been reduced to the necessity of earning your 
 own living?" 
 
 35
 
 CHAPTER FOUR 
 
 "Yes, father was reputed to be rich, but he lost most 
 of his money through a bank failure and other un 
 fortunate investments, and the expense of his long ill 
 ness took what little he had left. The doctors and 
 everyone else thought we were rich, and they charged 
 us accordingly. Mother s death two years ago and his 
 heavy financial losses came almost together, and though 
 he fought bravely for more than a year, he couldn t 
 overcome the shock." 
 
 Bowing his head for a moment Mr. Farnsworth 
 seemed lost in thought. "It s strange how easily we 
 lose sight of those about us, even our best friends," 
 he said sadly. "I used to see your father often at the 
 club; then after your mother s death he resigned and 
 I scarcely ever saw him. But I little realized that he 
 was in financial distress. Your home," he said, look 
 ing up at her "has that been broken up?" 
 
 "Yes, the mortgagees took everything, even the 
 furniture and paintings. They seemed to begrudge me 
 my jewelry and my own personal things." 
 
 "May I ask are you living with some relative?" 
 
 "No, I m all alone. When father died I went to 
 live with an aunt, but she was also in much reduced 
 circumstances, and I didn t feel as if I ought to be 
 come a burden upon her, so I studied shorthand. She 
 died just before I graduated, two months ago." 
 
 "Was that your Aunt Millie, your father s 
 sister?" 
 
 36
 
 KITTY BELLINGER 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "And your name is Kate, I believe I hope I may 
 take the liberty of so calling you, for the sake of old 
 comradeship with your father." 
 
 She flushed, and as the color enlivened her pale 
 cheeks, contrasting with her deep blue eyes and dark 
 hair, he was struck with astonishment at her loveliness. 
 
 "Yes, Mr. Farnsworth; father always called me 
 Kate and I should feel very grateful if his old-time 
 friend took an interest in my welfare." 
 
 "I do take a very great interest in your welfare, and 
 I am much grieved that your father never confided his 
 financial troubles to me." 
 
 "He was extremely sensitive on that point," she 
 said, "and I don t think he ever told anyone, not 
 even me until the doctor gave up all hope of his 
 recovery. The estate barely paid his debts; in fact 
 there are a few small unpaid accounts that I have 
 promised to meet as soon as I can earn some money." 
 
 "Are his papers in your possession, and do you know 
 if there were any certificates of stock in a Colorado 
 gold mine?" 
 
 "Yes, I have them all. There are a number of 
 worthless stock certificates among them." 
 
 "You are a plucky girl as your father s daughter 
 would naturally be and as his friend I am glad to 
 tell you that you need look no further for employ 
 ment. But," as he hesitated and looked at her hands, 
 
 37
 
 CHAPTER FOUR 
 
 "I m afraid those tapering fingers are too frail to do 
 typewriting." 
 
 "Oh, you are so kind, Mr. Farnsworth; I m quite 
 strong, and I would do my best to please you. But I 
 couldn t think of taking the position away from the 
 other girl; she probably needs it as much as I do." 
 
 "Just like your father he was always looking to 
 the interests of the other fellow. Don t trouble your 
 conscience over the other girl; your work will not 
 interfere with hers. Could you call tomorrow after 
 noon at three o clock? and would you mind bringing 
 along those worthless certificates?" 
 
 "Yes, if you would like me to shall I come pre 
 pared to go to work?" 
 
 He smiled. "No, I won t hurry you to that extent ; 
 I wish to think matters over a little and talk with you 
 again." 
 
 As she left the office he called her back "Do your 
 friends know your circumstances?" 
 
 "No, I ve avoided them as much as possible, and 
 have said nothing to any of them about my plans." 
 
 "We will see if we can t remedy that," he said, as he 
 led her to the outer door. 
 
 She smiled happily as she turned to go, and he 
 watched her slender, graceful figure as she passed out 
 onto the street. Returning to his private office he 
 lit a fresh cigar and assumed a recumbent attitude 
 in his easy chair as he reflected back over past years. 
 
 38
 
 KITTY BELLINGER 
 
 "Poor Harvey! Things must have gone badly with 
 him in his latter days. And now his only child 
 poor girl is left penniless ! He relied too confi 
 dently upon the honesty of men in the mining business, 
 and it resulted in his undoing. Of course those mining 
 shares are not worth a cent, but they will serve my 
 purpose just as well," he mused, as he watched the 
 smoke from his cigar curling lazily toward the ceiling. 
 
 Other affairs claiming his attention, he dismissed the 
 matter for the time being. 
 
 Next day the young lady called promptly at the hour 
 appointed, and was ushered into Mr. Farnsworth s 
 office. 
 
 "I m sorry, Mr. Farnsworth," she said handing 
 him a large envelope "but this is all I could find at 
 home. The others must have been left with our 
 lawyer." 
 
 The envelope contained some certificates of stock in 
 a western gold mine that he had never even heard of. 
 
 "Why, these represent a paper value of a hundred 
 thousand dollars!" he said, looking up in feigned 
 surprise. 
 
 "Yes," she replied calmly, "and I don t suppose 
 they are worth that many cents." 
 
 "I m not entirely sure about that I ll write to one 
 of my western correspondents and make inquiry. 
 Now, the work I have in mind for you is perhaps a 
 little different from what you expect. I wish you to 
 
 30
 
 CHAPTER FOUR 
 
 act as my agent in looking after a number of families. 
 Your duty will be to visit each family once or twice a 
 week and report conditions and needs just as you find 
 them. I wish you to ascertain the income and neces 
 sary expense of each household and what additional 
 amount is required to supply food, clothing and fuel. 
 You are to keep accounts at the stores in your own 
 name and order such articles as are needful. I will 
 furnish the necessary guaranty of accounts, but other 
 wise my name is not to be used in any way. No money 
 is to be given directly, except perhaps in special in 
 stances, and extravagance and wastefulness is to be 
 discouraged in all cases. Do you feel equal to such an 
 undertaking?" 
 
 "I m simply delighted with the idea!" she exclaimed, 
 as she clapped her hands in childish glee. "It s just 
 the work I ve always wanted to do; and I m so glad 
 you re interested in it. How I do wish father could 
 have known this before he died it would have made 
 him so happy. He was utterly broken-hearted over 
 leaving me destitute ; and now I am so glad to think I 
 can earn my own living, and at the same time do some 
 good in the world. 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Farnsworth, if you could only know how 
 much I appreciate your kindness! Everything has 
 been so blue and disheartening; and now I m so happy. 
 If all the rich men were only like you !" 
 
 The spirit with which she entered into his plans 
 
 40
 
 KITTY BELLINGER 
 
 gladdened his heart. After some further instructions 
 he handed her a list of names and addresses, with an 
 order on the cashier for a sum sufficient to cover her 
 own incidental expenses. As she was leaving his 
 office he smilingly remarked, - 
 
 "I hope that for a time at least you will prove unlike 
 the last young lady who attended to this work for me." 
 
 "In what respect, Mr. Farnsworth?" 
 
 "Why, she had been with me less than a year when 
 she got married and went to Europe." 
 
 "I shall try to be more grateful than that," she said 
 blushingly, as she turned to go. 
 
 "Just the girl I ve been looking for!" he mused as 
 he walked meditatively about the room after she had 
 gone. "Her face would bring joy into the most deso 
 late home " Then, reflectively, as he halted and 
 looked out at the window "except my own." 
 
 One morning, two weeks later, when Miss Bellinger 
 came in to make her weekly report to Mr. Farnsworth, 
 he told her that her mining stock had turned out to be 
 worth more than she thought. "It doesn t pay any 
 dividend yet, but it may in time, and in addition to 
 your present salary I m going to advance you a little 
 extra and charge it against the stock." 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Farnsworth, you are already allowing me 
 too much, and I d rather you wouldn t advance me 
 any money on the stock until you know for sure that 
 it s really earning dividends." 
 
 41
 
 CHAPTER FOUR 
 
 But the next Saturday the cashier handed her the 
 additional amount, which he insisted was according to 
 Mr. Farnsworth s orders. "And his orders, madam, 
 are never disobeyed," he added. Although convinced 
 that the stock was still worthless, she accepted the extra 
 allowance with a grateful appreciation of the spirit 
 of disinterested generosity in which it was given her. 
 
 During the weeks and months that followed, Miss 
 Bellinger was a frequent caller at the office and the 
 problems that were constantly arising in her work 
 were the subject of many more or less protracted and 
 discursive interviews with Mr. Farnsworth. She 
 visited the heads of various charitable organizations 
 and made a careful study of the particular branch 
 of work in which she was engaged. The practical 
 manner in which she systematized her work and the 
 readiness with which she analyzed and mastered diffi 
 cult situations won the respect and admiration of her 
 employer. He learned something he had not fully 
 realized before, that the work of dispensing chari 
 table donations in such a way as not to do more harm 
 than good is one requiring judgment and fine descrimi- 
 nation. Miss Bellinger found many cases where able- 
 bodied men and women had been reduced to a state of 
 indolent pauperization through misapplied benevo 
 lence. "Indiscriminate alms-giving," she said, "is a 
 great destroyer of pride and self-reliance more so, 
 even, than the drink habit." 
 
 42
 
 KITTY BELLINGER 
 
 "Kate," said her employer to her one day, "if ever I 
 should become an object of charity my first thought 
 would be of you; and my fondest hope would be to 
 have you minister to my needs." 
 
 Six months later the very foundations of Wall Street 
 were shaken by the worst financial panic of the age, 
 and he little dreamed how prophetic his jesting remark 
 was destined to become. 
 
 43
 
 CHAPTER V 
 THE PANIC 
 
 The great business depression and financial chaos 
 that swept over the entire continent centered in "Wall 
 Street," the country s financial whirlpool. Confidence 
 was upset, credit and reputation of former times 
 counted for nothing all values and credits were 
 based solely on the stock-market quotations from day 
 to day. Never in Mr. Farnsworth s experience had he 
 seen such stringent monetary conditions. His firm 
 was hard hit by having to carry a large block of new 
 and inactive industrial bonds, the market value of 
 which was subject to wide fluctuations. The value of 
 the high grade stocks and bonds in which the deposi 
 tors money and their own funds had been invested 
 had declined from twenty to fifty points and these were 
 pledged with banks and trust companies as security 
 for cash used in meeting the heavy drafts upon the 
 bank. The contents of Mr. Farnsworth s private box, 
 which had contained upwards of half a million dollars 
 in seasoned investment securities, had been put up as 
 collateral on loans. The banks continued to call for 
 additional collateral as stock values continued to 
 crumble, and depositors reduced their balances at his 
 bank, either to horde the money away in safe deposit 
 vaults or to buy securities at the prevailing low prices. 
 
 44
 
 THE PANIC 
 
 Day after day accounts of depositors were reduced or 
 closed, until there remained less than forty per cent of 
 the normal balances on customers accounts. 
 
 Conditions were approaching a crisis and it began to 
 look to Jefferson Farnsworth as if he would be unable 
 to stem the tide. He had resisted the thought of ap 
 pealing to his wife until all other hopes failed him ; but 
 the flood of "forced liquidation" showed no signs of 
 receding. One afternoon, after the stock exchange 
 had closed upon the most chaotic day he had ever seen 
 in the "Street," he hurried home to talk matters over 
 with Mrs. Farnsworth and ask her to aid him. On 
 arriving home he found that she was out, as usual, 
 and pacing the floor of his library he tried in vain to 
 penetrate the fog of difficulties that hovered about 
 him, depressed him, threatened his immediate ruin! 
 
 Shortly after five o clock he heard the front door 
 close. 
 
 "Is that you, Midge?" he called from the library, as 
 his wife came in from the matinee. 
 
 "Yes," she answered coldly. 
 
 He heard the rustle of her skirts as she passed up 
 the broad stairway in the hall, and although he momen 
 tarily expected her to appear, she did not come down 
 until dinner was announced. 
 
 As they sat at dinner Mr. Farnsworth looked 
 troubled; his features betrayed unmistakable signs of 
 his mental suffering. 
 
 45
 
 CHAPTER FIVE 
 
 Mrs. Farnsworth s dark eyes were clear and spark 
 ling, and her finely chiselled features were tinged with 
 a healthful glow after the ride home from the theatre 
 in the open air. 
 
 After a lengthy silence he asked, 
 
 "Did you enjoy the matinee?" 
 
 "No ; it was stupid." 
 
 Another silence, again broken by the husband. "I 
 wish you would cancel the opera tickets for Friday 
 night. My affairs are very unsettled and I fear I shall 
 be unable to go." 
 
 "Very well, I will cancel yours if you like, but /shall 
 go. It s the last Wagner opera of the season." 
 
 After this both remained silent until the conclusion 
 of the meal. He was thoughtful, and ate but little; 
 she ate in quiet, with evident relish and unconcern. 
 
 Upon leaving the dining room she tripped lightly up 
 the stairs, humming a tune she had heard that after 
 noon, and as he stood meditating in the hall he heard 
 her sitting room door close. After walking about un 
 easily for awhile he went up and tapped at her door. 
 He found her seated before the grate reading the 
 evening paper, and taking a nearby seat he gazed 
 reflectively into the fire. 
 
 She continued to read. 
 
 "Midge," he said at length, "I am in a sea of trouble. 
 Everything seems to be going against me lately." 
 Looking up at her he waited for some evidence of her 
 
 46
 
 THE PANIC 
 
 interest; but she still looked at the paper, apparently 
 unmoved by the remark. Finally she asked in a list 
 less way, 
 
 "Why? What has happened?" 
 
 "Market conditions are such," he explained "that I 
 fear we shall lose everything unless things change for 
 the better very soon. A great deal of my money is 
 loaned out on time, and is not available at short 
 notice." 
 
 Still unstirred, she turned the paper over and looked 
 at the pictures on the last page. 
 
 "Midge; I wish you would lend me some money for 
 a few weeks, or perhaps a few months." 
 
 She finally raised her head slowly and looked at him 
 in surprise. 
 
 "Why should / lend you money? Why don t you 
 borrow it from your business friends?" she asked coldly, 
 without even inquiring how much he needed. Con 
 tinuing, "A man never pays back money he borrows 
 from his wife." 
 
 "You have my word of honor. In all our years of 
 married life have you ever known me to misrepresent 
 anything to you?" 
 
 "No, I don t know that I have," and with a half- 
 suppressed yawn, she turned again to the paper. From 
 where he sat he could see a double-column heading, 
 
 "STOCKS AGAIN BREAK BADLY MANY 
 LARGE LOANS CLOSED OUT MARKET SHOWS 
 
 47
 
 CHAPTER FIVE 
 
 NO SIGNS OF RALLYING" and rising abruptly he 
 walked the floor. 
 
 "It s the first time in all my banking experience that 
 I ve been hard pressed. I have always had plenty of 
 money to lend in times like these, and I should have 
 been in that position today but for two bond issues 
 that I underwrote at an inopportune time. I don t 
 hold a share of stock on margin, but all my valuable 
 securities are tied up in loans for money used in taking 
 up these bonds and paying off timid depositors." 
 Pausing before her chair he looked down at her. 
 
 "I wish you would help me out of this difficulty, 
 Margaret," he said in a voice broken by the emotions 
 that stirred deeply within him. "It is the first favor I 
 ever asked of you. I m in the most desperate straits. 
 Our credit has always stood so high that the thought 
 of failure has almost driven me mad." 
 
 After some moments she looked up and said un 
 feelingly, "If your name stands well, I don t see why 
 the banks, or your friends, won t help you." 
 
 "Yes, in ordinary times they would, without hesita 
 tion; but you really can t appreciate a situation like 
 this;" he explained. "The banks are all as timid as 
 the investors and depositors." 
 
 "But most of my money is in stocks and bonds;" 
 she argued. "I haven t more than two hundred 
 thousand dollars on deposit in the banks." 
 
 He was astonished to learn that she had so much 
 
 48
 
 THE PANIC 
 
 money uninvested in reality all he needed to tide 
 him over. From the way she spoke at first he had 
 some misgivings about being able to induce her to 
 disturb any investments she might have in stocks or 
 bonds, but since she had voluntarily told him she had 
 this amount of cash, he now felt sure she would lend 
 it to him; if not, why should she have mentioned the 
 amount? His countenance lighted up as he saw the 
 means now almost in his grasp of averting his impend 
 ing ruin. 
 
 "Midge, that amount is all I need to take up all my 
 pressing obligations, and there isn t a single chance of 
 your losing a dollar of it. It will save us more than a 
 million dollars. You must let me have it!" he said 
 desperately. 
 
 "But you wouldn t give me the million dollars, and 
 I don t intend to take any chances on being reduced to 
 poverty in my old age," she said calmly. 
 
 "My God! Midge, you can t sit there and see me 
 suffer this way, on the brink of ruination ! You must 
 help me you are not heartless you must. Think 
 of our boy, our home, our family name ! our future 
 happiness yes, our very existence depends on it." 
 
 She sat staring vacantly into the fire and made no 
 reply to this final outburst. Stung by her unrespon 
 sive attitude, he was tempted to tell her that the money 
 she had inherited included fifty thousand dollars he 
 had lent her father, with interest for nearly twenty 
 
 49
 
 CHAPTER FIVE 
 
 years. But his pride would not permit him to press 
 his appeal further. He had played his last trump - 
 and lost! 
 
 As he stood looking at her, a sense of bitterness and 
 wounded pride almost choked him. He turned, 
 walked slowly out, and hesitating in the door he looked 
 back at her, hoping she would call to him; but she 
 did not even look up. 
 
 As he paced the floor in his room he looked up every 
 few moments at the open door, vainly hoping that she 
 would relent and come to his aid. He heard the 
 chimes of the hall clock as it struck ten, and as he 
 counted the strokes it seemed that he had never heard 
 a clock strike so slowly. Going out into the hall he 
 saw that her sitting room door was closed. He stepped 
 lightly up to the lattice door of her sleeping room and 
 heard her breathing heavily. 
 
 "My God!" he exclaimed, "she s sound asleep!" 
 
 50
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 AN INTOLERABLE SITUATION 
 
 On the following evening when they had finished 
 dinner Mr. Farnsworth asked his wife to come into 
 the library a little later. "I have something impor 
 tant to say to you," he said. 
 
 Without replying she went to her room and glanced 
 abstractedly over a few pages of a French novel she 
 had been reading, wondering the while what it could 
 be that he wanted of her. Concluding that he prob 
 ably intended to urge her further in the matter of 
 lending him funds she went down stairs, determined 
 to adhere firmly to her former decision. 
 
 Mr. Farnsworth rose from his chair as she entered, 
 and seating herself at the opposite side of the large 
 library table she picked up a magazine and turned the 
 pages absent-mindedly. 
 
 "Margaret, when you have finished with that maga 
 zine please give me your undivided attention for a few 
 moments." 
 
 She laid the magazine down deliberately, and stared 
 at him with unfeigned surprise. 
 
 "Well, I am ready to listen to you." 
 
 "I noticed this afternoon that you have just with 
 drawn your balance of a few thousand dollars from 
 my bank and placed it elsewhere," he said coldly 
 
 Si
 
 CHAPTER SIX 
 
 as he seated himself and met her gaze across the 
 table. 
 
 "Yes," she said curtly, "that was my privilege, I 
 believe." 
 
 "It was, indeed ; it was also your privilege to refuse 
 my humble request last night; and it seems to have 
 been your pleasure to exercise the fullness of your 
 privilege in both cases. But you might have restrained 
 your avarice, since it was my own money that I my 
 self voluntarily placed to your credit." 
 
 She merely nodded her assent, and rising she looked 
 at him inquiringly as if to ask if that was all he wished 
 to say. 
 
 "Sit down, please! I have scarcely begun. These 
 are comparatively trifling matters which we will pass 
 over, and come to the main issue." 
 
 "And what is the main issue, please?" as she re 
 seated herself. 
 
 "It is this: I am keenly conscious of the fact that 
 your lack of sympathy, which has so long been evi 
 dent, has grown to contempt now that you see me 
 borne down and humiliated by my present predica 
 ment ; and I have in mind a plan for relieving at least 
 this one feature of the situation, which has become 
 absolutely insufferable. There is perhaps a grim con 
 solation in the thought that your scorn is tempered 
 and rendered more tolerable by an utter absence of 
 pity. Pity, being akin to love, is not one of your weak- 
 
 52
 
 AN INTOLERABLE SITUATION 
 
 nesses. Your indifference I have long since learned 
 to bear ; but the contempt and open hostility shown by 
 your act in needlessly withdrawing money from my 
 bank at such a time are not to be endured. As long as 
 I was prosperous you perhaps felt that I had a right to 
 demand at least your respect, but now that I am fight 
 ing for existence against desperate odds, you have mis 
 construed my last appeal for help as an indication of 
 weakness. 
 
 "Beset from all quarters, and driven to the last ditch, 
 as a final resort I came to you for the aid and sym 
 pathy a man is entitled to expect from his wife; but 
 instead of helping me by sympathetic word or act you 
 deal me what amounts to a death-blow from an unex 
 pected quarter." 
 
 She sat with downcast eyes, leafing the magazine 
 carelessly. He stopped and watched her keenly for a 
 moment, then continued 
 
 "In all this trouble there appears to be but one thing 
 over which I have any personal control ; and " 
 bringing his clenched fist down on the table with a 
 thump "by the gods, I propose to stand my ground 
 and defend myself in that quarter, if no other." 
 Startled by his vehemence, she looked up quickly at 
 him. 
 
 "My plan is, that you shall apply at once for a 
 divorce, which I shall not contest." 
 
 At this she straightened up and stared at him in 
 
 53
 
 CHAPTER SIX 
 
 speechless amazement. At length, catching her breath, 
 she exclaimed, 
 
 "A divorce! Why, what do you what can you 
 be thinking about? Have you lost your mind com 
 pletely? / have no grounds for divorce ; and besides, 
 it would kill me socially you seem to have no 
 consideration whatever for my feelings." 
 
 "Much more than you have for mine. We could 
 easily devise some expedient that would meet the legal 
 requirements the proceedings could be held pri 
 vately, and the details kept out of the papers." 
 
 "No " she replied, after a moment s delibera 
 tion "I should gain nothing by divorcing you. Any 
 way, my church doesn t recognize divorce. And 
 what is more, your cousin, Mrs. St. George, would snub 
 me instantly, and that would ruin my social stand 
 ing." 
 
 "I was not aware that your social position depended 
 upon any one person. With your agreeable person 
 ality you ought to be able to hold your place in any 
 society." 
 
 "You know as well as I, Dalney, that Mrs. St. George 
 is the acknowledged leader of our circle, and that she 
 would not hesitate to side with you against me. Then 
 there s the Vanderventers they would cut me at 
 once " 
 
 "If you got the divorce, I don t see how you could be 
 criticized for my short-comings," he interrupted. 
 
 54
 
 AN INTOLERABLE SITUATION 
 
 "You men are all alike you don t understand the 
 whims of these society people. A divorced woman 
 would have no chance whatever ; there has never been 
 one in our set. Look how quickly they dropped that 
 Mrs. Hillsworth. Of course we all hated her, but it 
 wouldn t have made any difference if we hadn t 
 she would have been snubbed just the same." 
 
 "Would your church compel you to live with a man 
 you have ceased to love one that would be cruel or 
 unfaithful to you?" 
 
 "They don t take the circumstances into considera 
 tion ; and if they did, the conditions you mention have 
 no bearing upon our case." 
 
 "I could easily give you legal grounds for divorce 
 without creating any public scandal." 
 
 "Yes, but you never have, and I have no fear that 
 you ever will." 
 
 "Don t be too sure about that. Your attitude has 
 long been such as to test a man s patience, and even 
 his fidelity. I need not remind you that upon your 
 own initiative we have for several years lived together 
 merely as friends, and not very close friends at that." 
 
 "You have never had any cause to accuse me of not 
 being a faithful wife to you." 
 
 "Faithful, perhaps, in the sense that you have 
 created no statutory grounds for divorce ; but, very dis 
 loyal as far as our mutual interests and happiness are 
 concerned, A man is entitled to expect something 
 
 55
 
 CHAPTER SIX 
 
 more of his wife than that she keep herself barely 
 within the prescribed boundaries of the divorce laws." 
 
 "Dalney, for a man of over forty years you talk more 
 like a child than anyone I ever saw." 
 
 "However that may appear to you, Margaret, I do 
 not regard your judgment as final. Neither of us is 
 suffering from decrepitude, and I am determined not 
 to continue this indifferent existence at the cost of 
 your happiness and mine." 
 
 "Then what do you propose to do?" 
 
 "Briefly stated, I propose that you either change 
 your attitude which of course you will not or 
 else apply for a divorce; and if you choose not to 
 adopt either alternative I will see to it that you are 
 given ample cause for the latter." 
 
 "Do you mean am I to understand that you 
 propose to extort money from me under the threat 
 that if I refuse, you will disgrace me?" she said indig 
 nantly. "I can return your money to your bank if 
 you want it." 
 
 "No, not at all. We are no longer discussing money 
 matters. I would willingly sacrifice every other 
 wordly consideration and accept a menial clerkship if 
 we could go back and live over the first year of our 
 married life ; but that is out of the question " 
 
 "Again I must say your reasoning belies your 
 years," she broke in. "You talk like a foolish love 
 lorn swain, Will you never oAitgrow these absurd 
 
 56
 
 AN INTOLERABLE SITUATION 
 
 notions of yours? How could we keep our position in 
 society without money? Do you imagine that love 
 would suffice?" 
 
 "Society be damned!" as he sprang to his feet and 
 walked about. "I might perhaps have married into 
 New York society, but I didn t. What I hoped for 
 was a flesh and blood wife a woman with a heart, 
 whose interests and tastes would be in harmony with 
 my own; and for a year or so it seemed as if my 
 dream was to come true, until this social fever took 
 possession of you. Because I happened to have 
 relatives and friends who were able and willing to 
 gratify your social ambitions I have permitted myself 
 to be paraded about to all sorts of tedious functions 
 as your escort, and been obliged to listen to the shallow 
 twaddle of people whose chief ambition in life is to 
 snub those whom they consider beneath them socially. 
 And what is my recompense? I ve lost my wife, 
 sacrificed my home happiness, and frittered away 
 the better part of my existence to no purpose!" 
 
 "Why, Dalney, what has come over you? I never 
 heard you talk this way before. You are beside your 
 self. Your business troubles have distracted you. 
 You ought to keep such worries to yourself and not be 
 so selfish as to inflict them upon others, especially at 
 home. Get a few nights of sleep, and when stocks 
 recover you will " 
 
 "When they recover! God ! Yes indeed I should 
 
 57
 
 CHAPTER SIX 
 
 feel better; but they will recover too late to benefit 
 me. Tomorrow promises to be my last day." 
 
 "Then what good would a divorce do you? And 
 besides, if I should apply for a divorce now, your 
 friends would all say I am heartless and wish to get 
 rid of you because of your business misfortunes." 
 
 Remembering her father, and who she was when 
 he first discovered her, and what his fortune and name 
 had done for her, the suggestion of her trying to get 
 rid of him caused his lip to curl scornfully. His first 
 impulse was to tell her candidly that he wished to be 
 released from her because he now hated her as he had 
 once loved her. The sight of her sitting there com 
 posedly discussing her social ambitions, while his 
 whole being was in a state of panic over his impend 
 ing financial ruin exasperated him almost to the point 
 of losing self-control, and he walked back and forth 
 across the room, too restless to sit down. Finally he 
 stopped and looked at her as she continued nonchalantly 
 to turn the leaves of the magazine that lay in her lap. 
 She had it within her power to relieve his predicament 
 without loss or the slightest inconvenience to herself; 
 yet there she sat, calm, cold and unsympathetic, 
 apparently enjoying his mental anguish and discom 
 fiture. The situation was becoming unbearable. 
 His gentlemanly instincts forbade his saying what was 
 uppermost in his mind, and his pride forestalled any 
 further persuasive overtures. His pent up emotions 
 
 58
 
 AN INTOLERABLE SITUATION 
 
 threatened mental explosion, and he started to leave 
 the room, when suddenly a tragic idea flashed into his 
 mind. By sheer force of will power he spoke calmly, 
 deliberately: 
 
 "It is well you have money, and an abundance of 
 self-complacency; for you will soon have great need 
 of both." 
 
 But she appeared not to hear him. He sank into his 
 chair and rested his head in his arms on the table, as 
 he revolved the new idea in his half -frantic mind. 
 
 Presently he looked up and met her vacant, unfeel 
 ing look. For a few moments they sat gazing at each 
 other across the table. He rose and crossing the 
 room he stood at the side window looking out into the 
 street. It was obvious that she had no intention of 
 adopting his suggestion. He saw, too, that it was 
 useless to upbraid her or to discuss matters further. 
 It was clear that she regarded him as useful to her 
 merely as a social asset, and it was plainly evident 
 that she would undergo no change of heart. Driven 
 to the last extremity he clenched his hands as he 
 puzzled over the problems that had of late haunted 
 his feverish days and sleepless nights; but only the 
 one feasible alternative presented itself. 
 
 As he stood thus in silent meditation he heard her 
 get up and leave the room. 
 
 59
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 THE GOOD-BY NOTE 
 
 At Harvard Tom Farnsworth was one of the most 
 popular young men in his class. He took a keen 
 interest in college sports, and played right half-back 
 on the freshman football team. With his room-mate 
 Sidney Peters, he occupied a lavishly furnished suite 
 of three rooms, where the college boys usually as 
 sembled when any new plot was in process of hatch 
 ing. In fact the large "den" was popularly known 
 among the boys as the "incubator-room." 
 
 Since his last year in "prep" school Tom had had 
 an open checking account at his father s bank. Once 
 only had he ever been reminded that his expenditures 
 were excessive, and the unusual size of the draft that 
 brought forth this initial word of caution was due to 
 the fact that he aided a collegemate out of a serious 
 difficulty. It was his custom to write home once a 
 week, but he never received letters from home, except 
 brief notes from his father. 
 
 It would be difficult to imagine two persons less 
 alike from every point of view than Tom and Sid. 
 Tom was tall, square-shouldered and dark complex- 
 ioned, while Sid was short, of slender build, and 
 almost flaxen-haired. Sid was retiring and studious, 
 and always paid strict attention to the lectures, while 
 
 60
 
 THE GOOD-BY NOTE 
 
 Tom rarely went to the lecture hall but to study out 
 some new tactics in football, or how to promote the 
 interests of college athletics. While Tom had a 
 practically unlimited drawing account, Sid was work 
 ing his way through college, and at the same time 
 helping support a widowed mother and two sisters in a 
 cramped apartment in a Boston suburb. 
 
 Sidney had tutored Tom when the latter first en 
 tered college, and as a result of this chance acquaint 
 anceship Tom had formed a strong attachment for the 
 young man who was making a brave fight in the face 
 of adverse circumstances. He prevailed upon Sid to 
 share his apartments with him, free of charge, and 
 insisted upon allowing him a fixed sum each month 
 for tutoring. Although only twenty-one, Sidney 
 looked all of thirty, and had the sober judgment and 
 habits of a man of mature years. Tom used to call 
 him his "little old man," and whenever he was con 
 fronted with a knotty problem it was his custom to 
 seek Sid s advice, which was usually followed. 
 
 Early in March of his Sophomore year Tom received 
 a brief, imperative telegram from his father to come 
 home immediately. Without the faintest idea of what 
 was the occasion of this command he hurriedly threw 
 a few things into his traveling bag and started for 
 home. After a journey of anxiety and evil forebodings 
 he reached home early in the night, and found his 
 father alone in the library, looking haggard and weary. 
 
 61
 
 CHAPTER SEVEN 
 
 "Why, father! What for heaven s sake are 
 you ill?" 
 
 "No, no, my boy, just a little tired. I m glad 
 you ve come." 
 
 "Is mother sick why did you wire me to come 
 in such a hurry?" 
 
 "No, she s quite well. She s in her rooms." 
 
 After chatting a while with his father, Tom started 
 to go up to his mother s room. His father called to 
 him, 
 
 "A little later, Tom, please come to my room. I 
 wish to talk with you." 
 
 Tom hurried up stairs, still wondering what had 
 happened. Finding his mother s door open he entered 
 and found her with her maid trying the effect of her 
 latest Paris confection. 
 
 "What you here?" she exclaimed, with a look 
 of astonishment. 
 
 Seeing his mother s surprise only deepened his 
 anxiety, for his father had evidently said nothing to 
 her about telegraphing him. He therefore thought 
 best not to question her until he had talked again 
 with his father. 
 
 After talking with his mother a few minutes he 
 went to his father s apartments and found him pacing 
 the floor. 
 
 "Sit down, Tom; I want to have a little chat with 
 you." For some minutes he talked earnestly about 
 
 62
 
 THE GOOD-BY NOTE 
 
 the problems of life that usually confront a young 
 man, and how best to meet them. He talked of 
 college life, and the advantages it offered to a young 
 man starting in the world; and of the necessity for 
 due regard for the rights and feelings of others. 
 
 "If ever you marry, Tom, remember this advice: 
 never permit yourself to fall in love with a girl too 
 far above or below your worldly position. Marriage 
 is a highly momentous affair; it may be the making 
 or damnation of a man." 
 
 "Why, how strangely you talk, father; what has 
 stirred you up so? I never saw you like this before." 
 
 "I am in deep trouble, Tom. A great calamity has 
 overtaken me ; and I m going away on a long journey. 
 You will soon know all about it. During my absence 
 you will draw your checks on another bank. I have 
 made a deposit there in your name an ample 
 amount to cover your expenses for at least two years." 
 
 He then handed Tom the new check book, with 
 the remark: "The deposit is entered in the front, and 
 you will arrange your expenditures accordingly." 
 Clasping Tom in his arms he said in a tremulous 
 voice : 
 
 "Good night, my boy good-by. God bless you !" 
 
 Greatly alarmed by his father s strange actions, 
 Tom hurried back to his mother s sitting room. In 
 response to a rap at her door he heard her call - 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 63
 
 CHAPTER SEVEN 
 
 "It s me, mother may I come in?" and without 
 waiting for an answer he opened the door and rushed 
 in. 
 
 Clad now in a luxurious peignoir, she sat reading 
 before the fireplace. 
 
 "Mother, what s happened to Dad? Where s he 
 going? Are you going away with him?" 
 
 "Going away? No going where?" she asked, 
 with no apparent emotion. 
 
 "Why, father just told me that he s going on a 
 long trip, and he acted terribly strange seemed all 
 broke up about something. Tell me, mother - 
 what s up? What s this calamity he spoke off?" 
 
 "Why, haven t you heard?" 
 
 "Heard what? No. I ve heard nothing," he said 
 excitedly. 
 
 She calmly told him that as a result of the great 
 panic, his father s bank had closed its doors, and 
 most, or perhaps all, of his fortune had been swept 
 away. 
 
 Tom dropped into a nearby chair and stared at her 
 with a dazed look in his eyes. 
 
 "But why is he going on a long journey, and why 
 did he put ten thousand dollars in another bank for 
 me?" 
 
 "I ve heard nothing about his intention of going 
 away," she said coldly, with a slight shrug of her 
 shoulders. 
 
 64
 
 THE GOOD-BY NOTE 
 
 "Oh, mother! what a terrible thing for us all!" 
 Then after a moment s pause, "I suppose even your 
 money couldn t save him. But, mother, I ll quit 
 college, and that ten thousand dollars will keep us 
 all from starving until father can get on his feet 
 again." 
 
 "Oh, no doubt we shall manage. I ve lost nothing 
 to speak of. I had only a few thousand dollars in 
 your father s bank, and I drew that out just before he 
 failed. My securities and passbooks are all secure in 
 my safe deposit box down at the Union Trust." 
 
 Tom got up and stood, back to the fire, scowling at 
 his mother in reproachful astonishment. 
 
 "For heaven s sake! Mother, are you talking in 
 your sleep? Do you mean to tell me that you knew 
 this was going to happen when you drew out that 
 money?" 
 
 "No, not for certain, but for three or four nights 
 your father walked the floor of his room all night 
 long without touching his bed, and I suspected some 
 thing was wrong. Then he told me of his troubles 
 and asked me to lend him some money and next 
 morning I drew a check for my balance and deposited 
 it in another bank." 
 
 "Then of course you lost the money you lent him?" 
 
 "No, I didn t lend it to him." 
 
 "What? You refused to help him?" his lips quiver 
 ing with scorn. 
 
 65
 
 CHAPTER SEVEN 
 
 She met his stare with unresponsive indifference, 
 and wheeling about abruptly he left the room and 
 slammed the door behind him. 
 
 "By all the Olympic gods, what d you think of 
 that !" he exclaimed aloud as he left the room. Reach 
 ing his own room he sat and pondered over the start 
 ling developments of the last hour, hoping it was all 
 a wretched dream. Finally he got up and moved 
 about to see if he were really awake; then lighting 
 his pipe he puffed vigorously at it as he walked the 
 floor. A little later his attention was attracted by a 
 footstep in the hall. He went to his door and as he 
 stood listening he heard someone going down the 
 stairs. Going to the head of the stairway, he heard 
 the front door close; but hearing nothing more, he 
 returned to his room. 
 
 Unable longer to stand the suspense regarding his 
 father s misfortunes, he went to his room, determined 
 to learn more of the circumstances. The door stood 
 open, and receiving no response to his call he stepped 
 inside and found the bed undisturbed. Turning on 
 the light, he saw by the clock on the mantel that it 
 was past two o clock. 
 
 He hastened to his mother s room, roused her 
 from her slumber, and asked if she knew where his 
 father was. In a drowsy sort of way she remarked 
 that he had perhaps gone to his office, and with a 
 yawn she inquired why he was up so early. 
 
 66
 
 THE GOOD-BY NOTE 
 
 "Early ! it s not early it s late. I haven t been to 
 bed yet." 
 
 "Oh go to bed, Tom I ll see you in the morning," 
 she said as she turned on her side and closed her 
 eyes. 
 
 Tom spent the remainder of the night with his 
 thoughts in a state of panic. Once he tiptoed to the 
 door of his mother s sleeping room, and gently opened 
 it. She lay sleeping as peacefully as a babe, with one 
 arm across her breast and the other curved above her 
 head. The arc lamp in the street cast a shimmer of 
 light through the large window on her beautiful 
 features and she looked the picture of tranquility. 
 
 "She must be a cold one!" he mused, "to lie there 
 and sleep like that, when poor Dad is worried almost 
 to death and hasn t slept for four nights." 
 
 Late next morning, as Tom sat with his mother at 
 the breakfast table discussing the happenings of the 
 previous night, the butler announced that there was 
 a police officer in the front hall who wished to see 
 Mrs. Farnsworth. 
 
 "Never mind, mother, I ll go," said Tom, as he 
 sprang up and hurried out. 
 
 "What can I do for you?" he inquired of the officer. 
 
 "I want to see Mrs. Farnsworth on important busi 
 ness," he said, as he held out a small traveling bag, 
 stamped with the initials "J. D. F.," which Tom 
 recognized as belonging to his father. 
 
 67
 
 CHAPTER SEVEN 
 
 "We found this down at the North River pier. 
 There are some papers in it, and a note to Mrs. Farns- 
 worth." 
 
 Opening the bag the officer took out an envelope, 
 remarking that he wished to place it in the hands of 
 Mrs. Farnsworth herself. At this juncture Tom s 
 mother appeared, and grasping the envelope her lips 
 quivered as she read: 
 
 Dear Midge: Forgive me, but I simply couldn t say 
 good-by. You were sleeping peacefully when I 
 looked upon your face tonight for the last time. 
 
 My affairs are hopelessly involved. When stocks 
 recover, as they surely will, there will be enough to 
 pay off all creditors, with perhaps a small equity for 
 you and Tom. Two hundred thousand dollars would 
 have saved more than a million, but I couldn t raise 
 it in these turbulent times. 
 
 I am not a coward I could face the world and 
 begin over again without a dollar; but there s no 
 incentive. The financial loss, though large, was 
 comparatively nothing. The discovery of how com 
 pletely I had lost both your love and confidence un 
 nerved me, and now that my fortune is gone I have 
 nothing left to live for. 
 
 I have cashed in my two endowment policies, and 
 placed ten thousand of the equity in the bank for 
 Tom. The remainder has been turned over to the 
 
 68
 
 THE GOOD-BY NOTE 
 
 receiver for my creditors. The other two policies I 
 destroyed I couldn t bear to rob the insurance 
 companies. Good-by 
 
 DALNEY. 
 
 "My God! what does it mean? What has he done?" 
 she exclaimed as she handed the letter to Tom. 
 
 "What has he done ! You ll find the answer if you 
 ask yourself what you have done." Then snatching 
 up his hat he went out onto the street. 
 
 As he straggled along he tried to picture his father s 
 melancholy state of mind that could have driven him 
 to take his life. He walked down a few blocks, then 
 crossing over, boarded a down-town car, scarcely 
 realizing where he was going. 
 
 He heard a newsboy shout, "Extry! All about the 
 suicide!" and as the boy entered the car he snatched 
 a paper from him. A two-column headline caught 
 his eye - 
 
 "Ruined Banker Suicides Millions Lost in Crash 
 of Great Banking House." 
 
 Reading on he came upon the statement that his 
 mother was a rich heiress, and was reputed to have 
 a million dollars in her own right. It was assumed 
 that her private fortune had been lost in the downfall 
 of her husband s bank. 
 
 His father was referred to in the highest terms as a 
 man of probity and business sagacity, and it was 
 
 69
 
 CHAPTER SEVEN 
 
 stated that, in keeping with his established reputation 
 for honesty and upright dealings, he had surrendered 
 two large insurance policies to the companies in order 
 that they might suffer no loss as a result of his de 
 plorable and demented act. 
 
 The banking firm had long stood among the con 
 servative financial institutions in the city, and had a 
 large following among the most circumspect investors. 
 In years past they had underwritten the bonds and 
 stocks of many large corporations, and owing to their 
 exceptional clientele they were always highly success 
 ful in these undertakings. 
 
 It stated, furthermore, that Mr. Farnsworth was a 
 graduate of Harvard, as was also his father before 
 him, and gave the names of several fashionable clubs 
 and secret orders of which he was a member. 
 
 "His proud spirit," it went on to say, "was broken 
 by the loss of his long established prestige, and the 
 shock was so great that it momentarily overthrew his 
 reason. 
 
 "The needy never left his door empty-handed, and 
 many of the charitable organizations in this city 
 numbered him among their most generous contrib 
 utors. In addition he gave liberally to private 
 charities, unknown even to the members of his own 
 family and close friends. 
 
 "He was born in New York City, which has been 
 his home for more than forty years. At the age of 
 
 70
 
 THE GOOD-BY NOTE 
 
 twenty-one he inherited the bulk of his father s large 
 fortune made in the importing business," etc. 
 
 After reading the account, Tom began desperately 
 to recall the words his father had spoken to him the 
 night before. It was in vain that he tried to think of 
 his father as dead. "Impossible! I can t believe it! 
 I ll never believe it until I have more proof than there 
 is in that letter;" for there was really no direct state 
 ment of suicidal intention in the note to his mother. 
 
 The mention of the destruction of the life insurance 
 policies would of course imply self-homicide, but 
 might not he have thought that the beneficiary would 
 attempt to collect the insurance upon the mere pre 
 sumption that the insured was dead? He remem 
 bered, too, that his father had always had an abiding 
 horror of death, and firmly believed in eternal punish 
 ment. Then, again, the body had not yet been found. 
 
 With the idea of at once instituting a search, Tom 
 got off at the first drug store and consulted a directory 
 for the address of some detective agency. Finding 
 one that he knew by reputation he made an appoint 
 ment by telephone to have a detective meet him at the 
 house that afternoon. He then returned home, and 
 found his mother prostrated, and under the care of 
 the family physician. 
 
 A number of newspaper reporters called, but they 
 were denied an interview and told that there was no 
 report to be given out. 
 
 71
 
 CHAPTER SEVEN 
 
 In the early afternoon Mr. Farnsworth s business 
 partner, Mr. Burleigh, called and had a long interview 
 with Tom. He said that the collateral on one demand 
 loan had been closed out, but that the market had 
 recovered several points, and the outlook was more 
 hopeful. The bank that had called a large loan on 
 the day of the failure was now willing to extend the 
 time, since the market value of the pledged securities 
 had materially increased. If the firm could raise two 
 hundred thousand dollars, all of the urgent demands 
 could be met and the Company s credit could be saved. 
 
 "If I could see your mother for a moment," he 
 said, "I think I could persuade her to lend the support 
 necessary to save your father s name." 
 
 Tom hurried up to his mother s room but she 
 was then under an opiate, and the doctor forbade an 
 interview. 
 
 After explaining conditions to the doctor, Tom was 
 told that perhaps by the next morning his mother 
 might be well enough to be interviewed for a few 
 moments, and it was arranged that Mr. Burleigh 
 should come again. 
 
 A little later a young man called and reported that 
 he had been sent by the detective agency in response 
 to a telephone call. Tom related the interview of the 
 night before with his father; how he had disappeared 
 in the night, and that early next morning his small 
 handbag had been found on the pier by the police. 
 
 72
 
 THE GOOD-BY NOTE 
 
 The man remarked that, "if he left the house with 
 the deliberate intention of committing suicide he 
 would scarcely have encumbered himself with a 
 traveling bag. I see this is a very small bag; did 
 your father have any other a large one?" 
 
 "Why, yes, he had a large bag," Tom said, as he 
 jumped up and pressed a button at the desk. In a 
 moment the butler appeared. 
 
 "Simpson, where s my father s large traveling 
 bag?" 
 
 "I don t know, sir; he asked me to take it to his 
 room yesterday." 
 
 Tom sprang up the stairs, three at a jump, and 
 dashed into his father s suite. The bag was nowhere 
 to be seen. As he returned he met the butler at the 
 foot of the stairs, holding a small oval picture frame. 
 
 "I found this in your father s room, sir, with the 
 glass broken out. It s the frame of Mrs. Farnsworth s 
 picture, and it used to stand on your father s chif 
 fonier." 
 
 Tom seized the frame and rushed through the hall 
 into the room where the detective sat making some 
 memoranda in a note book. 
 
 "He s living! He s alive!" he shouted as he held 
 out the frame. The bag is gone, and look! he s 
 taken my mother s girlhood picture with him. Good 
 God ! if we only knew where to find him now that 
 the market is recovering !" 
 
 73
 
 CHAPTER SEVEN 
 
 "That will be comparatively easy," said the detec 
 tive, reassuringly. "Your father was a private 
 banker, I believe?" 
 
 "Yes," nodded Tom. 
 
 "And he had more or less dealings in western 
 mining stocks, didn t he?" 
 
 "Yes, I think he did; but what s that got to do 
 with finding him now?" 
 
 "It may have a great deal to do with it. Have 
 you a late photograph?" 
 
 Tom disappeared and soon returned with a photo 
 graph which he said had been taken about a year 
 before. 
 
 "H-m-m, let s see a man about forty ; smooth 
 shaven face, dark hair, and rather a square fore 
 head," said the detective. 
 
 After acquainting himself with all the obtainable 
 facts the detective cautioned Tom not to give out any 
 information, and left the house. 
 
 "I ll just do this quietly on my own account, and 
 say nothing to mother about it," thought Tom as he 
 stood musing over the affair. 
 
 Next morning Mr. Burleigh called and was ushered 
 into Mrs. Farnsworth s boudoir, where she reclined 
 in an arm chair. 
 
 After a brief explanation of how affairs stood, Mrs. 
 Farnsworth said: 
 
 "Mr, Burleigh, I believe my husband always trusted 
 
 74
 
 THE GOOD-BY NOTE 
 
 and admired you as a man of honor and good judg 
 ment. Tell me frankly, how much will be required 
 to save the firm?" 
 
 "It would now seem that two hundred thousand 
 dollars will be ample, considering that market values 
 are advancing. If there should be another slump in 
 prices, it might require a little more." 
 
 "Then would I obtain control of the business, and 
 benefit by the recovery of the stocks?" 
 
 "Yes, you and your son, when he becomes of age, 
 would have absolute control of the business. I have 
 only a fourth interest in the firm, and of course would 
 have no interest in the amount you lend, further than 
 what it would save for me as a partner." 
 
 "Then in that case I will furnish the necessary 
 amount at once. I have talked the matter over with 
 my son, and I wish you to assume charge of affairs, 
 and take him in to learn the business."
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 THE MAN HUNT 
 
 Shortly after the Farnsworth & Company suspen 
 sion, when the bank was again open for business, 
 Miss Bellinger called and asked if there was any news 
 about Mr. Farnsworth, and was told there was none. 
 
 "I wonder if you have any record of the stock 
 certificates I left with him?" she asked of Mr. Bur- 
 leigh. He went to Tom who had taken his father s 
 desk in the bank and found that the certificates 
 had been discovered in the office. On being intro 
 duced to Tom, Miss Bellinger told him of the arrange 
 ment under which she had worked for his father, 
 covering a period of nearly a year. He learned upon 
 inquiring of the head bookkeeper that there was no 
 record in the office of any money paid her as salary, 
 or advanced on the stock. But the cashier said he had 
 given her money each week and charged it to Mr.Farns- 
 worth s personal account; that at the end of every 
 month he gave her considerable sums of money, also 
 for Mr. Farnsworth s account, which he understood was 
 to pay bills incurred in her work. Returning to his pri 
 vate office where Miss Bellinger sat waiting, he said, 
 
 "I can learn nothing about the value of this stock, 
 but it you like I will write to our correspondent at 
 Colorado Springs and inquire about it." 
 
 76
 
 THE MAN HUNT 
 
 "I am afraid," said Miss Bellinger, "that it will be 
 a useless bother. I have half suspected all along that 
 your father gave me the extra money entirely out of 
 the goodness of his heart. My father always spoke 
 so highly of him as a generous-hearted man." 
 
 He glanced up quickly "Are you a daughter of 
 the late Harvey Bellinger?" 
 
 "Yes; did you know my father?" 
 
 "No, but I knew of him. If you are not otherwise 
 engaged, I should like to have this work continued 
 in memory of my father, if you will look after it as 
 you did for him." 
 
 "In memory of your father!" she exclaimed with a 
 pained look "Are you sure he is really dead?" 
 
 "No, I m not certain," he replied, wondering what 
 grounds she had for asking such a question. 
 
 She said she would gladly continue the work 
 "But I shall only expect the amount he allowed me 
 as salary," she added. 
 
 As she got up to go she looked inquiringly at Tom 
 for a moment, then asked, 
 
 "Do you really believe that your father could have 
 committed suicide?" 
 
 "No, I have never believed it." 
 
 "Neither do I," she said, as she turned and left the 
 office to hide her rising emotions. Tom s eyes fol 
 lowed her until she passed out of sight. 
 
 "By Jove ! that girl s a stunner. I ll bet she would 
 
 77
 
 CHAPTER EIGHT 
 
 be worth all the detectives in town to hunt for father. 
 I wonder if she would! I ll just ask her next time 
 she comes in." 
 
 He wrote to their correspondents at Colorado 
 Springs and learned that the mine on which the stock 
 was issued had been sold some years ago under fore 
 closure of a mortgage, and that the stock was worth 
 less. 
 
 "Just like father," he mused; "he knew it wasn t 
 worth a cent. And he also read that girl s character 
 well enough to know that she wouldn t accept the 
 extra money if he told her the truth about it." 
 
 He told his mother of the interview and of what 
 his father had done, but said nothing about his inten 
 tion of continuing the arrangement, for he knew she 
 would have no sympathy with the plan. 
 
 "Yes," she said, "he was always looking after the 
 heathenish poor, and if he had been less prodigal in 
 dispensing alms he might have been alive and pros 
 perous today." 
 
 "Yes, mother, and if you had been a little more 
 prodigal he might still have been alive and prosper 
 ous, too." 
 
 "Oh, please, please, Tom! the Lord knows I have 
 gone through enough already." 
 
 Though Tom pitied her, he felt that any suffering 
 she had undergone was but a just recompense for her 
 cold-heartedness. "There, there, mother," he said, 
 
 78
 
 THE MAN HUNT 
 
 "perhaps father isn t dead after all; and we may 
 find him yet." 
 
 She glanced up quickly "Why? have you heard 
 anything?" 
 
 "No, but Miss Bellinger seems like a bright girl, and 
 I ve a notion to ask her to do a little detective work 
 in hunting for him. She s the girl, you know, that s 
 been doing work in the slums for him." 
 
 Hesitating a moment, his mother asked, a little 
 dubiously, "Tom, who is this girl? Do you know 
 anything about her?" 
 
 "No, except that she s a daughter of Harvey Bel 
 linger. He lost all his money before he died, and 
 father gave her a position. You know Mr. Bellinger 
 was one of father s closest friends." 
 
 "Yes, I know. But do you suppose she s interested 
 in him?" 
 
 "Why, no, mother; what ridiculous suspicions!" 
 
 "But you are only a young man, Tom, and you 
 don t know the ways of the world. Many a girl has 
 unconsciously fallen in love with her benefactor. 
 Did she volunteer to search for him?" 
 
 "No, I haven t even mentioned the matter to her. 
 She s a mighty stunning creature, though, and I 
 wouldn t hesitate to get lost myself if I thought she d 
 hunt for me," he said, without sympathizing with 
 her apparent mistrust. 
 
 The next time Miss Bellinger came into the office 
 
 79
 
 CHAPTER EIGHT 
 
 Tom asked her if she knew anyone she could get to 
 take her place for a while. 
 
 "No, I can think of no one just this moment, but 
 possibly I could find somebody. Why do you ask 
 has my past work been found unsatisfactory?" 
 
 "No, no; not that; but I have something more 
 important that I wish you would do for me. I want 
 you to help me find my father." 
 
 "But where should I go to hunt for him?" she asked 
 with a surprised look. 
 
 "I don t know anywhere you think he might be 
 found." 
 
 She gazed unseeingly at the rug for a few moments, 
 lost in meditation, while Tom watched her closely, 
 wondering what was passing through her mind. At 
 length she raised her eyes quickly and met his gaze. 
 The sudden illumination in her face almost caused 
 him to start from his chair. 
 
 "Your father was interested in some western mines 
 wasn t he?" 
 
 "Yes," said Tom eagerly, remembering also that 
 this same question had been asked by the detective. 
 
 "And isn t it probable that his first thought would 
 be to go out West and get in among the mine 
 owners?" 
 
 "Yes, but the detectives have been all over that 
 ground and we ve posted the mining country with 
 notices of the reward." 
 
 80
 
 THE MAN HUNT 
 
 "Which of course would have driven him away, or 
 into close confinement, if he were there," she said 
 despairingly. 
 
 "I could give you a letter of credit on our Denver 
 correspondents, if you think anything can be accom 
 plished, and you could work from there. It seems 
 like an absurd notion, sending you out there, but the 
 work you ve been doing has probably taught you how 
 to get about and take care of yourself." 
 
 "Yes, I ve learned a great deal in the past few 
 months. If I go I will take the names of all the 
 firms and banks he had dealings with anywhere in the 
 mining districts. Possibly he may have called on 
 some of them if he s out there." 
 
 "That s a wild country for a girl of your appear 
 ance and years hadn t I better send someone along 
 to accompany you?" 
 
 "No, I prefer to go alone, if I may have a few letters 
 of introduction." 
 
 "You shall have anything you need, regardless of 
 cost. But are you really brave enough to make this 
 trip alone, without knowing the people or the country?" 
 
 "Yes, I think so. Oh, I do so wish that we could 
 find him," she said, growing quite exultant over the 
 prospect. She manifested such a lively interest in 
 the undertaking that Tom set to wondering if after 
 all there might not be some grounds for his mother s 
 distrust. However, that made no difference, for 
 
 81
 
 CHAPTER EIGHT 
 
 what he most desired was to find his father, no matter 
 who might be in love with him. 
 
 "Who but a woman would ever have dreamed of 
 such a suspicion!" he mused. "Poor man! he didn t 
 get much comfort at home, and I wouldn t blame him 
 a bit if he did interest himself in someone else. Men 
 ought to have something besides their office affairs 
 to divert their minds occasionally. But this is the 
 first time I ever knew mother to be jealous." 
 
 Next morning when Tom arrived at the bank he 
 found Miss Bellinger waiting there. She did not 
 appear as cheerful as she had been the day before, 
 and her enthusiasm had apparently waned. At 
 length she said, 
 
 "Mr. Farnsworth, I don t wish to intrude into your 
 family matters, but assuming that we are correct in 
 supposing your father to be alive, do you think it was 
 his business reverses alone that caused him to go 
 away? And in case we should find him, suppose he 
 refuses to return home?" 
 
 He was puzzled as to how to answer the first ques 
 tion, and he marveled at his own stupidity in that 
 the second one had never before occurred to him. 
 At first he was averse to disclosing any family secrets, 
 but if she was to work intelligently, it seemed best 
 that she know all the facts. Again he wished to 
 defend his father against any charge of cowardliness 
 in fleeing from his creditors. 
 
 82
 
 THE MAN HUNT 
 
 "In justice to my father, I must say that it was 
 neither the fear of his creditors nor the shame of his 
 failure that drove him away. He was a proud, but 
 fearless, man; and he had ample confidence and 
 ability to recover his fortune if his domestic life had 
 been happy." 
 
 "I thought as much," she said. 
 
 He explained to her about the failure and his 
 mother s refusal to lend any aid until after the sus 
 pension and his father s disappearance. 
 
 "Then that accounts for the story printed in one of 
 the morning papers," she said, as she drew a clipping 
 from her handbag, and watched him while he read it. 
 
 It was reported in the newspaper article that the 
 temporary suspension of Farnsworth & Company 
 was precipitated by the withdrawal of a large sum of 
 money by Mrs. Farnsworth from her husband s bank. 
 As a motive for her act in thus hastening his ruin at 
 this critical time it was pointed out that one of Mr. 
 Farnsworth s junior partners had visited her fre 
 quently of late, and he was now an important factor 
 in the resuscitated concern. Recently she had in 
 duced her husband to transfer their magnificent home 
 on Riverside Drive over into her name, and shortly 
 thereafter she had deposited a large sum of money, 
 subject to check, in his bank; and conniving with 
 her husband s trusted business associate she had 
 watched her opportunity to crush him. 
 
 83
 
 CHAPTER EIGHT 
 
 It was even hinted that knowing his proud spirit 
 she anticipated the fatal results which followed. 
 This theory was sustained by the fact that immediately 
 after her husband s suicide she held a long consulta 
 tion with one of his partners, and that she drew a 
 quarter of a million dollars in cash from various 
 banks, which was placed in the hands of the receiver 
 of the crippled concern, thereby enabling him to take 
 up a large amount of stocks and bonds that had been 
 pledged as collateral in loans. 
 
 It was stated that in one loan where the market 
 value of the railroad and industrial stocks had shrunk 
 below the margin of safety, and were likely to be 
 sacrificed at any moment, she had substituted state 
 and city bonds and taken out the stocks. When the 
 market recovered, the net increase in the value of the 
 stocks securing this one loan would amount to a quar 
 ter of a million. 
 
 In short, she had got rid of her husband and added 
 more than a million dollars to her already ample 
 fortune. She had outwitted one of Wall Street s 
 shrewdest financiers, and it was furthermore stated 
 that this coup de grace would be remembered as one 
 of the most pathetic tragedies in the history of Wall 
 Street. 
 
 Miss Bellinger saw Tom s lip curl as he read the 
 defamatory statements, which he knew were false. 
 
 "It s bad enough at best," he said, "but there s 
 
 84
 
 THE MAN HUNT 
 
 scarcely a word of truth in the whole account, except 
 that she did put a large sum of money into the busi 
 ness, merely as a temporary loan. The statement 
 about my mother s conduct with my father s partner 
 is as groundless as it is scandalous and malicious." 
 
 "But is there no way of refuting such scurrilous 
 statements?" she asked. 
 
 "Yes, but this sort of yellow journalism has the 
 advantage of us after all. The more you air your 
 family affairs in the papers the more it gives the 
 scandal-mongers to write about. The public is hun 
 gry for just this sort of thing, and if every respectable 
 newspaper in the city were to print a whole column 
 of denial the readers wouldn t be especially interested 
 in it." 
 
 "Can t you sue them for libel?" 
 
 "Yes; but did you ever hear of anyone getting 
 anything out of a libel suit except a lot of advertising? 
 The less said about such matters the better you are 
 off in the long-run." 
 
 "Perhaps you are right, but I should like to get 
 back at that reporter," she said bitterly. 
 
 "Now, as to father returning, if we should find him. 
 I guess we needn t bother ourselves about that for 
 the present. If you locate him you can telegraph me 
 and I will come at once ; then if I can t persuade him 
 to return I can at least visit him and perhaps help him," 
 he said as she was leaving the office. 
 
 85
 
 CHAPTER EIGHT 
 
 Tom sat for some time thinking about the news 
 paper article. "My! but won t mother s society 
 friends be shocked when they see that! She ll have 
 to reef her social sails now for good." 
 
 A few days later Miss Bellinger left for Denver, 
 armed with several letters of introduction to Farns- 
 worth & Company s correspondents in the West, and 
 a letter of credit on a Denver bank. In due time she 
 reported her arrival, but said she had found no trace 
 of the missing man. She said she would visit Lead- 
 ville, Victor and other mining centers, where she had 
 letters of introduction. 
 
 A week later she reported from Victor, Colorado: 
 "For three days I have been looking for a tall man 
 whose description and actions aroused my suspicions; 
 but my hopes were all blasted when I located him 
 today." And Tom s eyes widened perceptibly when 
 he read her P. S. "Girls appear to be scarce out 
 here I ve already had one proposal of marriage, 
 and am threatened with another. They appear to 
 believe in coming to the point quickly out in this 
 wooly country." 
 
 That was the last letter Tom received from her, 
 and the next few weeks were spent in anxious waiting 
 for further news. Meanwhile he had written to 
 different correspondents to whom he had given her 
 letters. She had called on two of them, but the 
 others had neither seen nor heard of her. 
 
 86
 
 THE MAN HUNT 
 
 During this period of waiting and anxiety Tom was 
 much puzzled by his mother s demeanor. At times 
 she seemed deeply moved by the situation and keenly 
 interested in the search; then all at once she would 
 become peevish and spiteful. Spasms of regret and 
 self-reproach, which appeared unfeigned, would be fol 
 lowed by fault-finding and sullenness. "To think that 
 he could be so inconsiderate as to do such a thing and 
 leave me to suffer the odious consequences!" she had 
 remarked. "That newspaper scandal it will kill me !" 
 she exclaimed. "His people all hate me now, and not 
 one of our friends has sent me so much as a sympathetic 
 word. They treat me as if I were guilty of some crime." 
 
 Tom had about concluded that she had undergone 
 no great change of heart, and that her pride alone 
 had been touched; but he noticed that since the 
 appearance of the defamatory article she showed a 
 greatly increased interest in finding his father. In 
 referring to Miss Bellinger, she taunted him repeatedly 
 for being "taken in," and trusting "so confidently in 
 a pretty girl s honesty." "The idea," she said testily, 
 "of sending an attractive girl out into that country, 
 with plenty of expense money, and expecting ever to 
 see either the girl or your money again! She s prob 
 ably married by this time." 
 
 These jeers and charges against the girl s honesty 
 were rendered the more intolerable because he now 
 feared they might be well founded. 
 
 87
 
 CHAPTER EIGHT 
 
 "Yes, mother, for the sake of humoring your whim 
 sical ideas, let us hope she is married, and happily so. 
 I hope she gets a man that s as kind to her as father 
 was to you. If father really committed suicide over 
 you he was a weaker man than I think he was. I 
 believe he was too strong-minded and proud to give 
 you that satisfaction." 
 
 The loss of the money did not bother Tom, for he 
 would have risked twice as much upon the remotest 
 prospect of finding his father; but the loss of the girl 
 did trouble him. Had she not written about one 
 proposal, and another one threatened? This was 
 most disconcerting; and yet he didn t know just why 
 it should be. But he began to regret having sent her 
 He would have gone to look for her himself, but fear 
 ing the chagrin that would result from the possible 
 discovery that she was engaged or married to some 
 one else, he decided to send someone instead. 
 
 The more he thought the matter over the more 
 restless he became, until finally he decided to lay 
 the problem before his friend Sid for whom he had 
 secured a position in the bank. So one afternoon he 
 sent for him to come into his office. 
 
 "Sid, do you remember that Miss Bellinger that I 
 sent out West?" 
 
 "Yes, I saw her in here once or twice, but I paid 
 no particular attention to her." 
 
 "Would you know her if you saw her on the street?" 
 
 88
 
 THE MAN HUNT 
 
 "Yes, I think so. Why? Is she back in the 
 city?" 
 
 "No or that is, I haven t heard a word from her 
 for weeks, and I m afraid something has happened to 
 her out in that wild western country. Or maybe she s 
 found father and he persuaded her not to let us know 
 about it." 
 
 Sid ran his fingers through his hair, as was his 
 wont when confronted with some intricate problem, 
 and was silent for some moments. 
 
 "Did she draw the full amount of the credit you 
 gave her on the Denver bank?" he inquired at length. 
 
 "Yes, she did, and the last sum she drew was 
 over three hundred dollars, all at one time and 
 only a short time ago, too!" said Tom excitedly, as a 
 new idea occurred to him. "And I ll bet she s found 
 him and given him that money," he continued, - 
 forestating Sid s own conclusion. "I wish I d made it 
 ten thousand instead of five hundred!" he exclaimed 
 as he jumped up and stalked about the room, with 
 his hands rammed deep into his trousers pockets. 
 
 "You assume the girl to be honest, do you, Tom?" 
 "Not the slightest doubt in the world about that; 
 she comes from a fine family, friends of my father. 
 "Sid, you d know that girl if you came across her, 
 and you re just the fellow to go out there. Father 
 doesn t know you, neither does she. You can prob 
 ably get some trace of her at Denver, at the bank 
 
 89
 
 CHAPTER EIGHT 
 
 where she drew the money, or from some of the 
 people she had letters to." 
 
 Sid pondered for some time before answering. 
 
 "I m no detective, Tom, but if you think I can do 
 anything for you, I ll go, and do all I can." 
 
 "Good!" said Tom; "prepare to leave here by 
 tomorrow night. And say, Sid, come to think of it, 
 she drew that last money through the Sheldon Bank 
 ing Company at Colorado Springs. And I ll bet that s 
 just where you ll find her too J"
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 TOM MAKES A DISCOVERY 
 
 One day shortly after Sid s departure, while glanc 
 ing over a large accumulation of papers found in 
 his father s private box, Tom came across an old 
 letter written from Colorado Springs, which ran as 
 follows : 
 
 My dear Farnsworth : 
 
 After three months of prospecting I have struck the great 
 est mining prospect in the West, but it will take fifty thous 
 and dollars ready cash to close it. This is double the amount 
 you agreed to stake me for, but there will be a million profit 
 in it. Wire me at once if you can let me have the amount 
 right away. My option only runs ten days. I will write full 
 particulars later. In haste, Yours, 
 
 WILLIAM J. BENSON. 
 
 "For heaven s sake!" exclaimed Tom; "that s my 
 mother s maiden name!" He also came upon a 
 promissory note, dated a few days later, bearing the 
 same signature, for fifty thousand dollars. 
 
 "Looks like that note was never paid " he mused, 
 as he turned it over and over in his fingers and looked 
 in vain for some endorsement or cancellation stamp. 
 He rang for the head bookkeeper, who promptly 
 appeared. 
 
 "Billings, how long have you kept my father s 
 private accounts?" 
 
 "For more than twenty years, sir." 
 
 91
 
 CHAPTER NINE 
 
 "Did you ever see this note?" he asked as he handed 
 him the paper. 
 
 "No, I never saw it;" he said, after examining it 
 critically ; "but I notice it is outlawed long ago." 
 
 "Do you know anything about it?" 
 
 "As I remember, it is for money loaned to your 
 mother s father." 
 
 "And was it ever paid?" 
 
 "I don t think so." 
 
 "As the custodian of my father s private accounts, 
 wouldn t you have known if it had been paid?" 
 
 "Yes, undoubtedly. I remember getting a draft on 
 San Francisco for that sum, payable to Mr. Benson, 
 and if the note had been paid it would have been 
 returned or cancelled. I remember your father 
 would never have anything more to do with Mr. 
 Benson soon after sending him that money." 
 
 "The reason is obvious," said Tom. "He never 
 paid that money back, and my father was too proud 
 to sue him." 
 
 Tom reached over and picked up a package of 
 papers and receipts he had found locked in a tin box 
 by themselves. 
 
 "Tell me, Billings, who was Stephen Barton, 
 trustee?" 
 
 "He was the trustee of your Grandfather Farns- 
 worth s estate." 
 
 "I find here a lot of receipts from Miss Hilton s 
 
 92
 
 TOM MAKES A DISCOVERY 
 
 school did any of my father s relatives attend that 
 school?" 
 
 "No, but your father was interested in a young 
 lady who went there, and he paid her bills." 
 
 "Then that was probably a personal matter into 
 which I have no right to inquire." 
 
 "But under the circumstances you really ought to 
 know about it," persisted Billings, hesitatingly. 
 
 "If it was a private affair of my father s, let the 
 secret rest with you." 
 
 "But it concerns your mother, and you ought to 
 know of it," he reiterated. "As things have turned 
 out, I don t believe your father would hold me to 
 the pledge of secrecy, and you may as well hear the 
 truth." 
 
 Though burning up with curiosity, Tom was un 
 certain whether or not he ought to inquire into the 
 privacy of his father s affairs. Finally he said, "You 
 may tell me if you will, provided you think it is a 
 matter that my father himself would confide in me 
 if he were living." 
 
 "Very well, and the Lord forgive me if I do wrong. 
 That money was paid for your mother s schooling," 
 he said bluntly. 
 
 "My mother s schooling!" exclaimed Tom. "Why, 
 what do you mean?" 
 
 "I was Mr. Barton s bookkeeper when your father 
 was in college," he began. He then gave Tom a 
 
 93
 
 CHAPTER NINE 
 
 brief account of his father s love romance, which 
 culminated in his marriage to the girl he had be 
 friended. In conclusion he added "And I don t 
 believe she ever knew a thing about it, not even to 
 this day. Old man Benson thought because your 
 father married his daughter, that squared the debt 
 off; and he wrote your father an insulting letter 
 when he was asked to pay the note. The reason 
 why your father never sued him for the money was 
 that he didn t want your mother to know this secret, 
 and that he helped her father out of a bad place and 
 gave him a start in life. That s the kind of a man 
 your father always was ; and I think it s an outrage - 
 the way he got treated." 
 
 With this he wiped his eyes, and as he was leaving 
 the room he remarked, "There s something else about 
 your grandfather that you probably don t know; but 
 I can t tell you. You ll know it soon enough." 
 
 "Well, what d you think of that?" said Tom to 
 himself when Billings had gone "Father loaned 
 that old pauper money to make a fortune with, and 
 he never paid back a cent of it! Then after mother 
 inherited it all, father couldn t even borrow back his 
 own money to save himself from ruin." 
 
 Tom now remembered that the name of his mother s 
 father had never to his knowledge been the subject of 
 remark between his parents, which seemed strange, 
 if his mother knew nothing about these matters. 
 
 94
 
 TOM MAKES A DISCOVERY 
 
 But there was something else even worse that 
 Billings would not disclose. "It must be pretty bad," 
 he mused, "if he refuses to tell it." He went home 
 that afternoon, determined to question his mother, 
 and see if he could get any more light on the subject. 
 
 "Mother," he said, as they sat talking in the eve 
 ning, "it seems strange I never heard either you or 
 father say anything about Grandfather Benson." 
 She looked at him wonderingly, but made no reply. 
 
 "Say, mother, did Grandfather Benson ever have 
 any business troubles with father?" 
 
 "Why no, of course not, Tom; why do you ask 
 such a question?" 
 
 "I ve just been wondering why they were not 
 friendly that s all." 
 
 "Do you know that they were not friendly?" she 
 asked. 
 
 "Yes, mother, of course I know it; but why should 
 you deny the fact, and try to keep it a secret from 
 me?" 
 
 "Well, since you know about it, the truth of the 
 matter is, about six months after you were born, 
 just after your father went into business, he had 
 some dispute with your grandfather over money 
 matters. I understood that your grandfather put 
 some money in the new firm, and " 
 
 "And he never got it back? is that it?" inter 
 rupted Tom. 
 
 95
 
 CHAPTER NINE 
 
 "Yes ; how did you know that?" she asked sharply. 
 
 "I was only guessing. And when your father died 
 he left you his entire fortune, didn t he?" 
 
 "Yes, that is - yes, he did." 
 
 "And did he tell you not to give any of it to 
 father?" 
 
 "Yes or why, Tom, how do you know all 
 these things? You must be a mind-reader. Not a 
 soul, either living or dead, ever knew what was in 
 that letter, except your grandfather and myself. I 
 burned it as soon as I read it. Has Simpson been 
 talking to you?" 
 
 "No, I m not in the habit of discussing family 
 matters with the house servants, and I never saw or 
 heard of the letter you speak of, and know nothing 
 about it." 
 
 She gave a sigh of relief, then continued, 
 
 "Your Grandfather Benson was a man of generous 
 impulses, and the most exemplary habits. People 
 often imposed upon his generosity and kindhearted- 
 ness. He was a man of close counsel, and rarely " 
 
 "Yes, my grandfather, with his generous impulses 
 indeed ! But please refer to him only as your father. 
 I m ashamed to own relationship with the old hypo 
 crite, and if I knew where he s buried I d go and 
 stamp on his grave !" 
 
 "Tom! Tom!" she gasped, "have you gone stark 
 mad?" 
 
 96
 
 TOM MAKES A DISCOVERY 
 
 "Yes, I have and, with good reason, too ! My 
 father never imposed upon anybody s generosity. 
 He never owed your father a cent in all his life; and 
 here s the evidence," he said as he flung the letter 
 and promissory note into her lap "He even gave 
 your father money to buy a railroad ticket to Colo 
 rado; he loaned him fifty thousand dollars to buy 
 that mine in which he made his fortune. Through 
 Stephen Barton, trustee, he paid every dollar of the 
 cost of your education in a fashionable boarding 
 school, and all your prodigious expenses from the time 
 you were fourteen years old, aggregating over twenty 
 thousand dollars ; and then allowed that old reprobate 
 to have all the credit for it. Your generous father 
 never dared show his face around here in his latter 
 days, and that s the only decent thing to his credit." 
 
 She glanced at the note, and stung by his last words 
 she sprang to her feet, with a revengeful glare in her 
 snapping black eyes. 
 
 "It s all a lie it s a forgery! I will not listen to 
 your ravings you re mad with fury," she said 
 angrily. 
 
 "Yes you will listen, mother. You needn t look that 
 way at me. Some of these facts you already knew, 
 and have been hiding them; and what you didn t 
 know it s time you were learning. Not a dollar of 
 that fifty thousand was ever paid back, and it was out 
 of consideration for your feelings that father never 
 
 97
 
 CHAPTER NINE 
 
 sued him because he wished to spare you and 
 shield your father from disgrace in your eyes. Instead 
 of paying the money back, the old cheat claimed that 
 the debt was paid by giving you to father. In other 
 words, he employed you as a means of getting the 
 money, and then figured that he had sold you for 
 fifty thousand dollarsl" 
 
 She fell back helplessly into her chair. 
 
 "Not content with that, he lied to you lied to 
 you! in telling you he put money into the business. 
 
 "You would have been ostracized from society long 
 ago if your fashionable friends had known the facts 
 about your father, with his generosity and kindhearted- 
 ness, and his exemplary habitsl 
 
 "If you had told me the truth, as far as you knew 
 the facts, I wouldn t have told you this ; but you were 
 not honest with me; and you never treated father 
 right, either. If you had acted half decently to him 
 he would have had some incentive to live. No wonder 
 he left home ! The thing that surprises me is that he 
 didn t leave you or go and hang himself long ago." 
 
 "0 God! spare me!" she moaned as she covered her 
 face with her hands. 
 
 One morning a few days later when Tom reached 
 the office he found Sid there. 
 
 "What, back so soon?" he cried in astonishment. 
 "Did you find Miss Bellinger?" 
 
 98
 
 TOM MAKES A DISCOVERY 
 
 "Yes, I found her, all right," he replied sullenly. 
 "Say, Tom, that girl is stark raving mad crazy 
 hopelessly insane." 
 
 "What did you do with her? Did you bring her 
 back?" he asked excitedly. 
 
 "What did I do with her? I couldn t do anything 
 but get away from her as quickly as possible, and I 
 was lucky to do that," he said, as he pulled up his 
 sleeve and exposed some bruises on his arm. 
 
 "Look what she did to me. I came across her at 
 Colorado Springs, just as she was coming out of the 
 Sheldon Bank, and followed her a couple of blocks. 
 She seemed in much of a hurry, and as she was cross 
 ing the street I called to her. When I first saw her 
 she looked as sane as anyone; but when she turned 
 and looked at me there was a wild stare in her eyes, 
 and her features seemed tensely drawn. Then all at 
 once she rushed up and grabbed me by the arm and 
 pinched me until I almost howled. She pulled me 
 along down to the station said she was going to take 
 me to Denver. I jumped aboard a train and came 
 home." 
 
 "Great Heavens!" cried Tom, "Why did you come 
 away and leave her there among strangers? Why 
 didn t you follow her to her lodging place, and then 
 telegraph me?" 
 
 "You wouldn t have thought of following her any 
 where if you had been there and she had hauled you 
 
 99
 
 CHAPTER NINE 
 
 through the streets, screeching and looking up at the 
 housetops, with a crowd of curious people in close 
 pursuit. She thinks she s Sherlock Holmes, and she 
 was determined to marry me." 
 
 "She must be crazy, all right," said Tom, looking 
 abstractedly out at the window. "Oh, excuse me, 
 Sid I didn t mean it that way, you know, of course. 
 But, really, you shouldn t have left her crazy, 
 or not crazy." 
 
 "After getting on the train," continued Sid, "I 
 thought of going back and reporting the matter to 
 the police, but finally concluded that they would find 
 her and take care of her, so I telegraphed the hotel 
 to forward my baggage, as there appeared to be 
 nothing I could do." 
 
 When Tom told his mother of Sid s report she said, 
 "It s good enough for her; she s probably gone crazy 
 over your father, and her dementia broke out in a 
 violent form when she failed to find him. It was the 
 height of folly in the first place to send her to look 
 for him." 
 
 "Then why don t you suggest something?" he 
 asked. "You d sit here the rest of your life and 
 do nothing, rather than spend a dollar on looking for 
 him!" 
 
 "If he s living he could easily write us a line, and if 
 he s not living, what s the use searching for him?" 
 she retorted. 
 
 100
 
 TOM MAKES A DISCOVERY 
 
 Reverting again to Miss Bellinger, regarding whom 
 she still seemed somewhat concerned, 
 
 "That girl detective of yours wasn t so crazy but 
 what she could draw the full amount of your letter of 
 credit." 
 
 "That s so, too," thought Tom. "I guess I ll just 
 take a run out there myself. Maybe that girl has 
 found father, and she wasn t as luny as she appeared 
 to be. She may have had some object in taking Sid to 
 the station and getting him out of town." 
 
 101
 
 CHAPTER X 
 THE TRAIL OF THE SUICIDE 
 
 When Mr. Farnsworth left his home on that drizzly 
 night in March he had made up his mind never to 
 return. While he did not feel that his wife was re 
 sponsible for his misfortune, yet he knew she could 
 easily have prevented it without any personal loss or 
 inconvenience. Her coldness and lack of concern in 
 his business success were barely endurable, but the 
 thought of being compelled to admit his failure and 
 to depend upon her for money with which to meet 
 household and personal expenses was intolerable. He 
 could not even suffer the thought of leaving their son 
 dependent upon her. It seemed best that he pass 
 completely out of her life. 
 
 "She is still young," he reasoned, "and with me 
 out of the way she may eventually find some other 
 man more adapted to her peculiar temperament." 
 
 She had often said that she would like to have a 
 home in her own name, and in presenting her with a 
 costly house he hoped that she would take a renewed 
 interest in domestic affairs. In this he was keenly 
 disappointed, for she accepted it merely as her right 
 ful perquisite. 
 
 For the sake of his son, and of family pride, he un 
 complainingly endured the galling yoke of domestic 
 
 102
 
 THE TRAIL OF THE SUICIDE 
 
 infelicity while he was prosperous; but these con 
 siderations vanished in the thought of becoming a de 
 pendent in the reproachful eyes of his proud wife, who 
 was doubtless already congratulating herself on her far 
 sightedness in withdrawing the deposit from his bank. 
 
 His first impulse was to leave home with no word as 
 to his destination; but this would tend to complicate 
 matters in the settlement of his affairs, so after due 
 consideration the most feasible plan seemed to be that 
 of creating the impression that he had destroyed him 
 self. It was with great reluctance that he finally 
 settled upon this artifice, for deception was always 
 repugnant to his nature. He would not belie himself 
 by making a direct statement that he contemplated 
 suicide, but he would leave this to be inferred. 
 
 Though the stratagem was neither original nor 
 especially clever, it was the first and only solution 
 that occurred to his confused brain during the last 
 interview with his wife, and he acted upon it. The 
 public might easily suspect that his failure would incite 
 suicidal thoughts, and the destruction of his insurance 
 policies would preclude any censorious remarks that 
 might be made against him if his wife attempted to 
 enforce their payment. Furthermore, the insurance 
 companies would thereby be eliminated as a factor in 
 prosecuting any search for him. 
 
 The thought of slinking away in the face of his 
 business reverses was abhorrent to him, for it ap- 
 
 103
 
 CHAPTER TEN 
 
 peared both cowardly and dishonest. Had his home 
 life been harmonious he would willingly have started 
 at the bottom, with complete confidence in his ability 
 to regain his prestige and his fortune; but the future 
 held forth no promise of domestic happiness, and the 
 necessary incentive was lacking. Since all men have 
 some weakness, either visible or invisible to the public, 
 his love of home life was his most vulnerable point, 
 and the wound inflicted upon it was too deep to be 
 healed. 
 
 After leaving his small bag, with the note to his 
 wife, on the pier he took the first early morning train 
 for the West. He looked cautiously through the cars 
 to see if perchance there might be a familiar face, and 
 was relieved to find none. His mind was tired and 
 distracted, and as he moved uneasily about from one 
 part of the train to another he became more and more 
 imbued with the feeling that he was fleeing from some 
 reprehensible act. 
 
 At every station he got off and after scrutinizing 
 closely every one who got on he walked impatiently 
 about the platform until the train started. At one 
 small station he went partly around to the opposite 
 side of the depot and stood for a few moments lost in 
 thought. Looking in at the window he saw the reflec 
 tion of his train moving out, and he turned about just 
 in time to run and catch the last coach as it was passing 
 the station. 
 
 104
 
 THE TRAIL OF THE SUICIDE 
 
 At Albany he bought a copy of an extra edition of 
 the morning paper and calmly read the account of his 
 own suicide. He smiled bitterly when he came upon 
 the statement that his wife was a rich heiress, and that 
 her fortune had probably been lost in the downfall of 
 his bank. After finishing the account he felt an added 
 sense of shame and regret, but it was too late to turn 
 back. 
 
 At Buffalo he got an evening paper and glancing 
 quickly at the financial news his heart sickened as he 
 read the headlines, - 
 
 STOCKS RECOVER QUICKLY BEARS SCRAM 
 BLE FOR COVER IN WILD DISORDER. 
 
 "If I could have held on just another day!" he 
 moaned. 
 
 Arriving at Chicago he spent the day on the streets, 
 and took the night train for Denver ; and from there 
 he went to Colorado Springs. Going into a bank to 
 get a bill changed, he inquired of the paying teller 
 where he could find a quiet boarding place. After 
 thinking a moment the man referred him to a small 
 boarding house out in the suburbs which he said was 
 conducted by a widow. Upon calling there he asked 
 if he could get a room by the week. He had not 
 shaved since leaving home, having decided to grow a 
 full beard and moustache to avoid identification. 
 After scrutinizing him closely, and observing his 
 
 105
 
 CHAPTER TEN 
 
 neglected appearance, the landlady asked his name and 
 where he was from. 
 
 "My name is Horace Alexander, and I am from 
 Denver. I wish to engage a room for a week, and 
 perhaps longer," he said. 
 
 His voice and cultivated manner reassured her, and 
 she showed him to a room, which she said he could 
 have for twelve dollars a week with meals, or five 
 dollars without. 
 
 "Would you prefer your pay in advance?" he in 
 quired, having noticed the suspicion with which she 
 regarded him at first. 
 
 "Oh, no, sir, I can see that you re a gentleman. I ll 
 have the water pitcher filled, and some clean towels in 
 a minute," she said as she left the room. 
 
 Though rather sparsely furnished, the room was 
 cosy, and after surveying it he set to work unpacking 
 his traveling bag, and prepared to make himself at 
 home in his new quarters. 
 
 Taking account of his finances he found that he had 
 a trifle over one hundred dollars, which he figured 
 would pay his expenses until he could collect his 
 thoughts and decide upon some course of action. 
 
 Being tired out after his long journey and sleepless 
 nights on the train he retired to his bed early and en 
 joyed the best night s sleep he had had in weeks. He 
 woke next morning much refreshed, and though still 
 keenly regretful of his business misfortunes he deter- 
 
 106
 
 THE TRAIL OF THE SUICIDE 
 
 mined to start anew and reconstruct his lost fortune 
 and prestige under his new name. The vexatious 
 problem of domestic infelicity was no longer a question 
 of immediate concern with him ; it was for the moment 
 completely overshadowed by the question of subsis 
 tence that confronted him. The state of apprehen 
 sion under which he had suffered weeks of mental 
 torture was far more wearing than were his present 
 reduced circumstances; and now that the crisis had 
 passed he felt much relieved. It would be a matter of 
 adapting himself to the changed conditions, he 
 thought, as he lay in bed meditating over the possi 
 bilities of the future. He resolved to verify the say 
 ing, that "Life is filled with golden opportunities." 
 Here was a chance for an achievement, in starting 
 with nothing and acquiring the position of honor 
 and affluence he had formerly held by right of 
 inheritance. 
 
 After breakfast he sauntered down town and wan 
 dered aimlessly about. As he saw the bustle in the 
 streets the world seemed to be moving on all about 
 him, and made him the more anxious to attach him 
 self to some vocation. As he was passing the bank 
 where he had changed the bill the day before, the 
 thought struck him that he would go in and have a 
 talk with the president. He turned and started up 
 the steps, but as he put his hand on the door he thought, 
 "But how shall I introduce myself?" realizing for the 
 
 107
 
 CHAPTER TEN 
 
 first time the handicap of his new name. He turned 
 back and continued along the street. 
 
 In the afternoon he went to the executive offices of 
 The Sheldon Mining Company, an enterprise he had 
 financed in New York, and in which he was at the time 
 of his failure a director and a large stockholder. The 
 only one there who knew him personally was Mr. 
 Sheldon, the president, and he had died some weeks 
 before; so he felt there was no danger of disclosing 
 his identity. As he entered the spacious offices he 
 was met by the office boy who requested his name. 
 
 "Tell the official in charge that Mr. Horace Alex 
 ander would like to see him." 
 
 The boy bowed respectfully and disappeared. Re 
 turning a few moments later he said, "The vice- 
 president is engaged, and Mr. Dillworth says he doesn t 
 know you. He asks if you will tell the nature of your 
 business." 
 
 "Tell him I am an old-time friend of Mr. Sheldon," 
 he said sternly, with some impatience, and the boy 
 turned instantly to carry the message. In a moment 
 the gentleman appeared. 
 
 "I am Mr. Dillworth. I m glad to meet you, Mr. 
 Alexander," he said deferentially. A few moments 
 later they were seated in Mr. Dill worth s private office, 
 discussing various phases of the mining industry. The 
 man offered him a cigar and treated him with the 
 respect and cordiality that was naturally befitting to a 
 
 108
 
 THE TRAIL OF THE SUICIDE 
 
 friend of the former honored president of the concern. 
 Having introduced himself as Mr. Sheldon s friend 
 this man would of course be likely to suppose he was 
 merely making a friendly call, and he was much 
 puzzled to know how he was to approach the purpose 
 of his visit. At length he inquired, 
 
 "Is there any vacancy in your office, Mr. Dillworth?" 
 
 The man looked up in surprise. "Vacancy? No, 
 not that I know of. You are not looking for a 
 position!" 
 
 "The truth is, that is precisely what I am looking 
 for." 
 
 "I thought you were a friend of Mr. Sheldon s." 
 
 "It is true; I was. Up to the time of his death I 
 was on intimate terms of friendship with him. But 
 Fortune has suddenly turned her back on me, and I 
 have been reduced from a rich man to the necessity of 
 seeking a position in order to earn a living." 
 
 Seeing that the man looked a little provoked, Mr. 
 Farnsworth rose, and with a feeling of deep humilia 
 tion he turned toward the door. 
 
 "Wait a moment," said the man as he pressed a 
 button on his desk. A young man, with a pen be 
 hind his ear, who looked as if he might be the book 
 keeper, soon appeared. 
 
 "John, this gentleman is looking for a position. 
 Have you any vacancy in the office?" 
 
 "No, sir, nothing that he could do," glancing at 
 
 100
 
 CHAPTER TEN 
 
 Mr. Farnsworth. "Our errand boy leaves next week, 
 but there is no other vacancy." 
 
 Mr. Farnsworth thanked them and left the office. 
 With drooping courage he walked slowly to his board 
 ing place and locked himself in his room. He was 
 now convinced that having no capital he would be 
 obliged to accept some minor position to begin with. 
 But what could he do? Having no practical knowl 
 edge of bookkeeping, that vocation was out of the 
 question, and he began to wonder what he should 
 have done had they offered him some position in the 
 office. "Why, the errand boy s position is manifestly 
 the only one I could fill !" 
 
 During the days that followed, while looking the 
 field over for some occupation and talking with people 
 about various enterprises he found there were many 
 opportunities for money-making, especially in mining, 
 but they all required investment of more or less 
 capital. 
 
 He thought of applying for a position as financial 
 writer on some newspaper, or of trying his hand at 
 writing short financial articles for magazines; but 
 being unknown under his new name, his articles 
 would perhaps not be accepted by the publishers. 
 
 He was now cut off completely from the world, liv 
 ing under an assumed name, amid strange and 
 uncongenial surroundings, and without money 
 man s best friend in time of need. Facing these new 
 
 no
 
 THE TRAIL OF THE SUICIDE 
 
 conditions, he felt as if he were beginning life as a boy 
 again, minus the inherent hopefulness of boyhood. 
 
 In leaving behind him the impression that he was 
 dead he exiled himself from all friends and relatives, 
 and his name, fortune, and identity all were lost; and 
 even his indomitable courage was threatened. 
 
 He knew of a number of banking institutions at 
 home, any one of which would probably be glad to 
 employ him at a good salary, with perhaps a small 
 working interest in the business to start with. Several 
 had in the past offered to consolidate with his firm in 
 order to avail themselves of his clientele and his broad 
 knowledge of the banking business. There were 
 many of his customers who in ordinary times would 
 perhaps be glad to furnish capital to start him in busi 
 ness again ; but he had now cut himself off from these 
 possibilities as effectually as if he had really carried 
 out the purpose implied in the note to his wife. 
 
 "How could I have been so blind as to commit such 
 a senseless blunder?" he asked himself again and 
 again. "And all for what? A woman ! an ungrateful 
 woman! Ah, how completely these creatures may 
 accomplish the ruin of confiding men! In business a 
 man may fail and rise again, and succeed in spite of 
 all obstacles; but let him make a mess of his love 
 affairs and he s damned for the rest of his life. But 
 God help the man who fails in both at the same time!" 
 
 Though he had always preached and practiced the 
 
 111
 
 CHAPTER TEN 
 
 motto, "Keep up your courage," now in his time of 
 sore need there was no comforting voice to echo back 
 these words to him. 
 
 Once in answer to an advertisement he applied for a 
 position as a clerk in a grocery store, but having no 
 experience he was refused, as he had been everywhere 
 else. 
 
 "But I am a man of mature judgment and common 
 sense, and I can learn readily," he argued; to which 
 the proprietor gruffly replied, - 
 
 "Then you ought to be running a store of your own 
 at your age." 
 
 "Yes, you are quite right," he agreed as he turned 
 and with a downcast look left the store. 
 
 With a dogged determination to accept any position 
 that would offer him a foothold he went from there 
 back to the Sheldon Mining Company to apply for the 
 position of errand boy. "The lower down I begin, the 
 greater will be my triumph in the end," he thought. 
 
 But the place had already been filled. The book 
 keeper offered to take his name, address, and refer 
 ences, and put his application on file. "References!" 
 he thought "I know of no one to vouch for me." 
 He gave his name and address though for what 
 reason he scarcely knew then walked away. 
 
 As he walked dejectedly along he felt that he was 
 indeed the most impoverished individual in all the 
 world. Even the newsboys and bootblacks on the 
 
 112
 
 THE TRAIL OF THE SUICIDE 
 
 street became objects of his envy; for they seemed 
 happy and contented in their accustomed poverty and 
 ignorance. They were at least somebody in their own 
 caste while he was nobody, from nowhere, and in his 
 present identity he had no past to refer to, and no 
 future to look forward to. He was simply Mr. Alex 
 ander, born a few weeks ago, and he began to feel about 
 as vacant and helpless as a child of that age. His 
 individuality was gone absolutely lost! In his 
 isolation he felt as if he were a man without a country, 
 a relative, friend or foe. 
 
 "And yet," he soliloquized, "people wonder why 
 strong men resort to self-destruction. That so few do 
 is a high tribute to the courage and inborn hopefulness 
 of mankind!" 
 
 Day after day he continued to watch the want 
 columns in the newspapers, and applied for various 
 positions, but he was either "too old," or "too late," or 
 lacked the necessary recommendations, generally 
 all three. 
 
 He would sometimes stand and watch the people on 
 the streets as they hurried by, occasionally singling 
 out one and wondering what position he occupied. 
 Then as the form would vanish his eyes would rest 
 upon another passer-by. No one spoke to him, no 
 body noticed him or dreamed of his lonely, impover 
 ished condition, any more than if he had been a lamp 
 post. Time after time he would return to his lonely 
 
 113
 
 CHAPTER TEN 
 
 room, tired and disheartened over his ill success. It 
 seemed incredible, he thought, that a human being 
 could be quite so neglected and forlorn. 
 
 "How easily one may dissipate the fruits of an in 
 dustrious life!" he meditated. "After gradually as 
 cending for years, one misstep may cause a man to 
 stumble and fall, as I have done, to the lowest depths." 
 
 One morning as he was going out, the landlady 
 handed him a letter addressed to "Mr. Horace Alex 
 ander," the first letter he had received since leaving 
 home. He opened it hastily with mingled curiosity 
 and apprehension. It was written on the letter paper 
 of the Sheldon Banking Company, signed by Wilbur W. 
 Sheldon, president, and requested him to call at the 
 bank. 
 
 "The son of my old friend ! What does he know or 
 want of Horace Alexander?" he queried as he started 
 off, with the first ray of hope that had dawned upon 
 his horizon in many days. 
 
 114
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 THE VEILED WOMAN IN THE SHADOWS 
 
 Mr. Farnsworth went directly to the Sheldon Bank 
 ing Company, and upon being ushered into the presi 
 dent s office he was met by a tall man, perhaps thirty- 
 five, of light complexion and clean-shaven face. 
 
 "I hear that you were an old friend of my father s," 
 he said as he motioned his caller to a chair. 
 
 "Yes, I knew your father more or less intimately some 
 years ago, and I was much pained to learn of his death." 
 
 They talked for some time over banking and busi 
 ness affairs in general, but Mr. Farnsworth thought he 
 detected some skepticism in the other s demeanor. At 
 length he asked if there were any recent developments 
 in the affairs of Farnsworth & Company, of New York, 
 partly to satisfy his own curiosity, but also for the 
 purpose of affording an opportunity of showing that he 
 was acquainted with people and incidents with which 
 the younger Mr. Sheldon knew his father had been 
 closely connected. 
 
 In order to explain the occasion of his inquiry he 
 started to say that he had been a heavy loser by the 
 failure, but as he hesitated a moment he was inter 
 rupted by the reply that the firm was now perfectly 
 solvent. His face blanched and he grasped the arms 
 of his chair. 
 
 115
 
 CHAPTER ELEVEN 
 
 "Pardon me;" he said, "I am subject to occasional 
 attacks of vertigo. There, I feel better," as he settled 
 back in the chair. "I must appear to be very poorly 
 informed ; but the truth is, I have been so completely 
 out of the world in the past few weeks that I have lost 
 the run of events." 
 
 "Yes," said Mr. Sheldon, now more cordially, 
 "Farnsworth & Company s embarrassment was only 
 temporary. It s too bad Mr. Farnsworth committed 
 suicide so rashly, but it seems the market turned too 
 late to save him." 
 
 "I believe they have been your New York corre 
 spondents for nearly twenty years;" said Mr. Farns 
 worth, indicating his familiarity with their relation 
 ship. 
 
 "Yes, my father and Mr. Farnsworth were interested 
 together in some mines that were financed by Farns 
 worth & Company, and they have been our fiscal 
 agents for a great many years. Did you know Mr. 
 Farnsworth?" 
 
 "I knew his family very well indeed; I also knew 
 his partner, Mr. Burleigh, and his former partner, who 
 died a few years ago." 
 
 "Then perhaps you have heard of the recent news 
 paper scandal about his wife and his partner?" 
 
 Mr. Farnsworth involuntarily started to his feet; 
 then suppressing his agitation he sat down. "Again 
 I must plead my ignorance of what has taken place 
 
 116
 
 THE VEILED WOMAN IN THE SHADOWS 
 
 in civilization of late. What is the nature of this 
 scandal?" 
 
 Mr. Sheldon pressed a button and a clerk appeared. 
 
 "Bring me those newspaper clippings in the Farns- 
 worth & Company files." 
 
 In a few moments the clerk returned with them. 
 Handing them to Mr. Farnsworth, Mr. Sheldon re 
 marked, "Since you knew the parties concerned, per 
 haps you will be interested in reading them." 
 
 The first one was headed, SON OFFERS REWARD 
 FOR MISSING BANKER; arid went on to say that his 
 son, who was now the nominal head of Farnsworth & 
 Company, had offered a large reward for information 
 that would lead to the discovery of his father s body, 
 either living or dead. 
 
 The second clipping contained the account of the 
 reported scandalous actions of Mrs. Farnsworth and 
 Mr. Burleigh. 
 
 "It s all a lie!" he exclaimed when he had finished 
 reading it. "She never cared deeply for anybody - 
 not even her own child. Her mind and soul were 
 totally absorbed in her social duties and that idiotic 
 Woman s Rights Club !" 
 
 Excusing himself he hastily left the office, and went 
 directly to his room, quivering with excitement and 
 indignation. 
 
 "I ll go back and disprove that infamous attack;" 
 he thought. Then of a sudden he recalled the fact 
 
 117
 
 CHAPTER ELEVEN 
 
 that she had once suggested his taking Burleigh into 
 the firm, and soon thereafter she had asked him for a 
 checking account at his bank. That much was cer 
 tainly true. Moreover, it was the one instance in 
 which she had ever shown any interest whatever in his 
 business. 
 
 He remembered how time and again she had worn 
 her most becoming dinner gowns when Burleigh had 
 dined with them, and now, come to think of it, she had 
 always reserved her choicest witticisms for these occa 
 sions. At first she was loud in her praises of Burleigh s 
 sterling business-like qualities. Then of late he had 
 dined with them less frequently, and she appeared to 
 avoid him as much as possible sometimes pleading 
 a headache and ordering dinner served in her room. 
 
 Once he had come suddenly upon them in the 
 library and found them conversing earnestly in under 
 tones. Perhaps it was he who had counseled her in 
 the matter of investments ! He now remembered, too, 
 that her headaches usually got better shortly after 
 Burleigh s departure. Was it not apparent that these 
 headaches were shammed for a purpose? 
 
 "Yes, it s perfectly clear;" he reasoned "she 
 avoided him when I was about for fear I should dis 
 cover her infatuation and spoil her plot. And this 
 explains why she refused to lend me the money, and 
 why she was so anxious to have the home in her 
 name! 
 
 118
 
 THE VEILED WOMAN IN THE SHADOWS 
 
 "And now, after all these years of labor and loyal 
 devotion to her, she strikes me down as she would a 
 venomous reptile, and turns over the accumulation of 
 my years of hard work to the one I befriended and 
 took into my business and my home! Fool! blind 
 fool that I ve been! But I ll go back and upset their 
 plans ; neither of them shall live to enjoy the fruits of 
 their damnable perfidy!" 
 
 A horrible feeling crept over him; then remember 
 ing his boy, and considering the disgrace the whole 
 affair would bring upon his family name, he curbed his 
 madness and became more rational. 
 
 The moment his frenzy began to give place to saner 
 thoughts he felt himself growing weak, and finally 
 he broke down completely and throwing himself across 
 the bed he sobbed aloud : 
 
 "Oh, Margaret! Margaret! My God! how could 
 you how could you be so cruel and heartless !" 
 as he thought how he had loved and adored her so 
 completely; watched over and educated her in her 
 childhood, when she was poor and motherless; loved 
 and petted her in her girlhood, and idolized her in her 
 womanhood! "0 merciful God!" he moaned. 
 
 He remained in his room all day, and when it grew 
 dark he went out into the still night air and sought a 
 sequestered place. The full moon shone brightly, and 
 as he emerged from the trees that lined either side of 
 the street he started suddenly at the sight of his 
 
 119
 
 CHAPTER ELEVEN 
 
 shadow. As he strolled along he recalled the times 
 many years ago, when in foreign lands he had taken 
 long evening strolls with his affianced bride, and they 
 had chatted and laughed over the incidents of their 
 early love-making, and each had marveled at the 
 blindness of the other. He remembered how they 
 sometimes sat together in a secluded nook in the 
 gardens and puzzled out faces and figures in the moon, 
 and builded air castles for the future. 
 
 Thus he meditated as he wandered aimlessly along 
 with a heavy heart, until at length he found himself in 
 an open square, or park, where he sat down on a 
 rustic bench beneath the trees. Placing his hands on 
 the back of the bench he rested his face on them and 
 vented his feelings in convulsive sobs that shook his 
 now weakened frame as if he had been seized with a 
 violent chill. He was aroused by a stern voice 
 calling, 
 
 "Hey, move on there! We don t allow no drunks 
 in this park. There was a drunk committed suicide 
 here last summer." 
 
 "I m not drunk," he protested. 
 
 "None o yer back sass, there, er I ll run ye in. I ve 
 been follering ye staggerin around in the dark more n 
 ten minutes." 
 
 It was obviously useless to argue the matter further, 
 so he moved away. 
 
 "A fitting recompense for my f oolhardiness !" he 
 
 120
 
 THE VEILED WOMAN IN THE SHADOWS 
 
 thought as he moved slowly along the narrow board 
 walk, not knowing or caring whither it led. 
 
 Once he thought of stifling his pride and writing 
 Tom to send him money to go home. But he reasoned, 
 as he had many times before, that having left the im 
 pression that he had destroyed himself, if he returned 
 he would be publicly accused of weakness and cow 
 ardice. He would lose the respect not only of the 
 public and his friends, but of his own family as well. 
 In his imagination he could see the finger of scorn 
 pointed at him from every quarter. They would call 
 him a coward, and say that he returned only after 
 someone else had shouldered his obligations and put 
 his firm on a sound footing. 
 
 "No ! no !" he said "I can never go back now ! I 
 have fallen headlong into her trap, and I ll abide by 
 the consequences." He was glad that Tom would at 
 least be independent of his mother s gratuities. 
 
 He wandered into the little public library and took 
 a seat at the long reading table. As he looked ab 
 stractedly over the newspapers he glanced up and saw 
 a small wizen-faced man glaring at him from the 
 opposite side of the table. Fearing this might be a 
 detective he quickly left the room, and as he hurried 
 down a dark street he looked back every few paces to 
 see if he was being followed. 
 
 For several days he remained indoors, venturing out 
 occasionally to stroll about late at night, and obtain a 
 
 121
 
 CHAPTER ELEVEN 
 
 morsel to eat. During the first week at the boarding 
 house he had partaken sparingly of the poor fare, then 
 changed the arrangement, adopting the more economi 
 cal plan of paying for his room and taking his meals 
 elsewhere. He became much emaciated from loss of 
 sleep and lack of proper nourishment, and his inter 
 mittent hours of broken rest were of late constantly 
 haunted by dreams of his former home and entangled 
 business affairs. Continued brooding and loneliness 
 had produced a highly morbid state of mind and he 
 felt at times that he was verging closely on insanity. 
 
 One night when he had strolled out under cover of 
 darkness, as he was returning home from a restaurant 
 he noticed a heavily veiled woman walking rather 
 closely behind him. Seeing that she quickened or 
 slackened her pace in such measure as to keep about 
 the same distance behind him, he faced quickly about 
 and walked directly toward her; but she darted across 
 the street and was soon lost in the shadows of the trees. 
 On continuing his way he saw no more of her and 
 supposed she had abandoned her pursuit. 
 
 But shortly after Mr. Farnsworth entered the house 
 that night a closely veiled woman called and inquired 
 of the landlady if she had a guest in the house by the 
 name of Farnsworth; and upon receiving a negative 
 answer she seemed much puzzled, and went away. 
 Next morning she returned and engaged a room, paying 
 a week s board in advance. 
 
 122
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 THE TURNING POINT 
 
 During his days of solitary confinement in his room 
 Mr. Farnsworth fretted himself into such a nervous 
 state that he was forced to call in a physician. After 
 diagnosing his case the doctor recommended "a com 
 plete rest from business worries." 
 
 "That s just the trouble," replied the patient; "I ve 
 rested so much already that my constitution rebels 
 against this close confinement." 
 
 The doctor prescribed a tonic and recommended 
 more open air exercise. After taking a few doses Mr. 
 Farnsworth felt stronger and more composed. The 
 next evening he dressed and slowly made his way down 
 town. As he walked about the streets and watched 
 the people hurrying to and fro, a renewed sense of 
 isolation and melancholy came over him. He stood 
 for a few moments on a street corner meditating 
 where he should go, for he dreaded to return again to 
 his lonely retreat. He felt like a disconnected unit of 
 humanity. Indeed, he was, if possible, even more 
 lonesome than when locked in his dismal room; for 
 the sight of the hordes of unheeding strangers as they 
 hurried by only intensified his loneliness. His sudden 
 demise, he mused, as he stood alone and forlorn, 
 would provoke no more than a passing comment. At 
 
 123
 
 CHAPTER TWELVE 
 
 first the thought seemed shocking; but the more he 
 dwelt upon it the more tenable it appeared. Putting 
 his hand in his trousers pocket he drew forth a few 
 silver coins all the money he had left. There was 
 less than two dollars. He returned the coins to his 
 pocket, and stood for a moment with bowed head. 
 
 "No friends! No home! No money! In broken 
 health, and no hope of earning a livelihood! God! 
 what changes time does work!" Just then a hurrying 
 pedestrian jostled him, and in his weakened condition 
 he reeled and almost fell, but caught himself by the 
 lamp post. 
 
 "There seems to be no quarter for a man not 
 even on the street when once he s down," he 
 lamented silently. 
 
 "No, no! there s no use! It s the only alternative," 
 he concluded at length, and turning about he went 
 into the corner drug store, purchased a drug, signed his 
 name to the little book, and quickened his step as he 
 started for the telegraph office. He hastily scribbled a 
 telegram to Tom, and approached the operator s win 
 dow; but hesitated just as he was about to hand the 
 message in. Then folding it slowly he put it into his 
 vest pocket, and asked the clerk for a dollar bill in 
 exchange for that amount in silver. He walked out, 
 and going directly to his room he locked himself in. 
 
 He had been inside but a few moments when he 
 heard a rap at the door. He did not answer it. It 
 
 124
 
 THE TURNING POINT 
 
 was repeated much louder. Still he made no re 
 sponse; then someone turned the knob and pounded 
 vigorously on the door, and he heard a woman scream, 
 "Help! help!" He hurried to the door and as he 
 threw it open a heavily veiled woman rushed hysteri 
 cally into the room, crying, 
 
 "Oh, what have you done? What have you done?" 
 as she faced him and stared hard at him. 
 
 He started back and stood dumbfounded by this sud 
 den apparition. Before he could collect his senses and 
 recover his powers of speech, she threw her arms about 
 his neck, exclaiming, "Thank God! I m in time! 
 You havn t taken it, have you?" 
 
 "In time for what who?" he gasped. "My dear 
 lady, you have evidently made a mistake." 
 
 Her arms relaxed, and stepping back she tore off her 
 veil and stood trembling before his astonished gaze. 
 
 "Kitty! My God! How did you get here !" 
 
 At that moment the landlady appeared at the door 
 and inquired the cause of the commotion, and seeing 
 her new boarder in Mr. Farnsworth s room she gazed 
 at her in astonishment. 
 
 "This is my niece," he explained, "who having heard 
 of my illness came to see me. I didn t answer her 
 knock promptly, and fearing I was very ill or dead, 
 she became alarmed. Everything is all right, I assure 
 you; and I m sorry to have been the cause of any 
 disturbance." 
 
 125
 
 CHAPTER TWELVE 
 
 "Yes," interrupted Kitty, taking up the cue, "I dis 
 covered only yesterday that my uncle is stopping here, 
 and I came to surprise him." 
 
 As the woman turned away he closed the door, and 
 turning about he saw Kitty reading the telegram, which 
 she had picked up from the table. 
 
 "It would appear that I arrived none too soon, Mr. 
 Alexander," she said as she handed him the dollar bill 
 she had unpinned from the message. 
 
 "How did you know that name, and that I was here?" 
 he asked. 
 
 "Why, I followed you here from the restaurant 
 night before last, and I ve been living here in the 
 house for two days. You ve changed so, that I really 
 wasn t sure it was you until I followed you down town 
 tonight. I was watching you as you stood on the 
 street corner, and I followed you into the drug store. 
 I was standing close behind you when you signed for 
 that drug; then I followed you here." 
 
 During this explanation she stood mechanically 
 tearing the telegram into little bits. 
 
 "Won t you please give me that poison, Mr. Farns- 
 worth?" she said appealingly, with outstretched hand; 
 and obeying her request, with some hesitation he drew 
 forth a small vial from his pocket and handed it to her. 
 
 "I ll dispose of this," she said, and drawing the 
 cork she poured the contents into the jar. Then 
 putting her hands to her face she exclaimed, 
 
 126
 
 THE TURNING POINT 
 
 "Oh! I feel so dizzy!" and as he sprang toward her 
 she fell fainting in his arms. 
 
 He laid her on the bed and soon revived her with 
 cold water. 
 
 "What has happened? Where am I?" she said 
 faintly as she opened her eyes and put out her hands. 
 
 "You re perfectly safe, Kitty," he said reassuringly; 
 "close your eyes and rest." 
 
 As he sat on the edge of the bed stroking her hand, 
 a dozen conjectures ran through his brain. How had 
 she recognized him? and who had sent her? The 
 sight of a familiar face brought him new hope, and for 
 the first time in weeks he realized that he was not 
 entirely alone and friendless in the world. Though 
 he was glad that his rescuer had arrived at an oppor 
 tune moment, he was thoroughly ashamed that she had 
 discovered him almost in the act of doing away with 
 himself, for when she tapped at the door he was medi 
 tating over the wording of a farewell note to his son. 
 
 While puzzling over the new situation and wonder 
 ing what was to be done, he saw the color gradually 
 returning to her cheeks, and presently she opened her 
 eyes and smiled. 
 
 "You won t do it, will you, Mr. Farnsworth? please 
 promise me." 
 
 "No, Kitty, I won t I promise you." 
 
 "And please forgive me for fainting and being such a 
 kitten," she said, as she sat up. "But, really, it 
 
 127
 
 CHAPTER TWELVE 
 
 shocked me terribly, and I was so afraid I should faint 
 before I reached your door. What did I do when I 
 came in? I was so distracted! Did you think I was 
 crazy?" 
 
 "You came near frightening the life out of me when 
 you rushed in with that heavy veil over your face and 
 threw your arms around my neck. I felt like a real 
 live hero for a second, and expected to see the pursuing 
 villain appear at the door," he said, as he laughed 
 jovially. He was suddenly reminded that it was the 
 first time he had heard himself laugh since he left 
 home. 
 
 "Oh, how I must have startled you ! please forgive 
 me," she pleaded laughingly, as a flush came to her 
 cheeks. 
 
 "Yes, I forgive you willingly; but I must confess it 
 shocked me at first," he said smilingly; "I m not ac 
 customed to such cordial greetings out here, though I 
 believe the western people are known for their cordi 
 ality." 
 
 "At any rate, I m glad you haven t lost your sense of 
 humor," she said. 
 
 "That s about all I have left; but we may as well 
 look on the best side of things," he remarked. "I m 
 so glad to see you; already it seems as if I were begin 
 ning to live again." 
 
 "Are you really glad?" 
 
 "Yes, truly, I am glad. Yours is the first familiar 
 
 128
 
 THE TURNING POINT 
 
 face I ve looked into for many weeks. And no one 
 will ever know what I ve suffered in that time. I 
 never thought it possible to crowd so much mental 
 agony into a whole lifetime." 
 
 "You look ill and tired out; please lie down here and 
 let me make you comfortable," she said as she got up. 
 
 He had forgotten that he was ill, but now that the 
 excitement had subsided the reaction set in and he felt 
 quite exhausted. He threw himself upon the bed, and 
 raising his head Kitty placed a pillow under it, and 
 drew the spread over him, for it had grown chilly in 
 the room. 
 
 "You are feverish," she said as she laid her palm 
 on his forehead. In a few minutes he fell into a sound 
 sleep. 
 
 Seeing that he was fast asleep, her eyes wandered 
 about the disorderly room. 
 
 "What a gloomy place !" she thought "No wonder 
 the poor man got disheartened." She got up and 
 moved about, putting things in order. On the bureau 
 was a small bottle of dark liquid, which she examined 
 curiously. 
 
 "Tablespoonful before meals," she read on the label. 
 "I guess that s safe ;" so she replaced the bottle. Look 
 ing into the top bureau drawer, which was partly open, 
 she saw some crackers and a small piece of cheese. 
 
 "Oh !" she moaned, "can it be that he has really been 
 reduced to this!" Then she glanced over her shoulder 
 
 129
 
 CHAPTER TWELVE 
 
 to see if he was still sleeping. He moved uneasily in 
 his sleep, and turning quickly about she stood facing 
 him, while she pushed the drawer in with her hand 
 behind her ; but he did not wake. 
 
 On a small table in one corner were a number of 
 magazines and newspapers with several clippings from 
 the Want columns. Finally after surveying the room 
 to see if things were all in orderly arrangement, she 
 took a seat at the bedside and scrutinized the features 
 of the sleeping man. 
 
 How wan he appeared ! a mere shadow of his 
 former self! Once a robust man, six feet tall, clean 
 shaven, with a handsome, distinguished looking face, 
 now he was gaunt, sallow and hollow-cheeked, and 
 his bristly beard gave him an unkempt appearance. 
 
 As she sat sadly contemplating his pitiable condition, 
 all at once it occurred to her that she had not tele 
 graphed his son the news of her discovery; and she at 
 once put on her hat and wraps, thinking she could run 
 down and send off the message, and get back before he 
 woke. 
 
 "But suppose he wakes up while I am out," she 
 mused as she looked back and halted with her hand on 
 the door knob "he will wonder at my sudden dis 
 appearance. And maybe he ll think I ve gone!" She 
 decided it would not be wise to let him out of her sight 
 even for a moment until she was assured that he had 
 entirely abandoned his purpose. 
 
 130
 
 THE TURNING POINT 
 
 While thus meditating she was startled by a groan 
 and an inarticulate guttural sound, and she saw an 
 agonized look in Mr. Farnsworth s face as if he were 
 in distress. She removed her wraps and again sat 
 down at the bedside. Presently he opened his eyes 
 and stared at her with a bewildered look; then he 
 smiled pleasantly and reaching out, took her hand. 
 
 "Oh, you are really here? I just came out of a 
 terrible dream, in which I saw you hunting for me 
 away out among the hills ; and I crouched down under 
 a great ledge, thinking if you found me you would tell 
 them at home about it. You passed so near my hiding 
 place that I could almost reach you with my hand; 
 and when you had gone out of sight my old feeling of 
 loneliness came over me and I called to you, but you 
 were out of hearing. Then I started and ran after 
 you, but all at once it grew dark and I couldn t find 
 you. It frightened me so that it woke me. Thank 
 God, it was only a dream !" 
 
 "Aha, then you would hide from me, would you?" 
 she said laughingly, hoping to cheer him up. 
 
 "They say dreams go by contraries, you know; and 
 I m sure this one did up to the point where I crawled 
 out from under the ledge and ran frantically after you. 
 I m not struggling to get away, now that I m awake." 
 
 "No ; but maybe that s because you re too ill I 
 see you have been taking medicine." 
 
 "Yes, I ve spent the greater part of the past four 
 
 131
 
 CHAPTER TWELVE 
 
 days in bed. But I felt as if I should go crazy unless I 
 got out of this desolate room, so tonight I dressed and 
 went down town. Have I slept long?" 
 
 "Only about two hours." 
 
 "It was most inconsiderate of me to fall asleep and 
 leave my guest to sit here in the cold." He glanced 
 about the room, and noting its tidy appearance, 
 "The maid has been in?" he asked. 
 
 "No, no one has been in." 
 
 For some moments both were quietly absorbed in 
 thought. 
 
 "Kitty, your coming out here and finding me as you 
 did seems like a made-to-order detective story. I can 
 scarcely realize that I m awake. Did my son send 
 you to look for me? How did you happen to find 
 me?" 
 
 "Yes, your son sent me. When I arrived in town I 
 went to the Sheldon Banking Company, with a letter of 
 introduction to Mr. Sheldon. There must be a lot of 
 people out here that look like me," she said laughingly. 
 "In Leadville I was taken for someone else, and when 
 I entered Mr. Sheldon s office he jumped up with an 
 exclamation as though I were someone he knew of old. 
 When I told him I was looking for a tall man, and 
 described you as well as I could, all at once an idea 
 came to him and he asked if the man wore a short 
 beard. He said a man partly answering my description 
 came in a day or two before and inquired about Farns- 
 
 132
 
 THE TURNING POINT 
 
 worth & Company, and that when he showed the man 
 a newspaper clipping about Mrs. Farnsworth he read it 
 hurriedly and went out, all excited. Of course I 
 suspected it was you, and since then I ve watched in 
 the hotels and restaurants and on the streets early and 
 late." 
 
 She told him how anxious they all were at home; 
 also that she heard it from Tom s own lips that the 
 newspaper story about his wife was a malicious fabri 
 cation. But she was surprised at the utter indiffer 
 ence with which he received this last statement. 
 
 "The reward for my discovery was offered by my 
 son with the best intentions; but it has caused me 
 much annoyance and anxiety. Think of the un 
 pleasant newspaper notoriety I should have been sub 
 jected to if they had found me! Ever since I heard 
 about it I ve felt like a hunted criminal, and kept my 
 self locked indoors during the daytime, for fear of 
 being discovered by some detective." 
 
 After pondering for some moments he said sadly, 
 
 "Much as I love my boy, I cannot go back; condi 
 tions do not permit it. It is better that I remain 
 away." 
 
 "But your son has employed me to find you, and 
 what am I to do or say? It would be dishonorable to 
 deceive him by not reporting the facts to him. And 
 your poor wife she will be delirious with joy when 
 she hears the news." 
 
 133
 
 CHAPTER TWELVE 
 
 At the mention of his wife he sat up in bed. A 
 frown came over his face, and his features became 
 rigid. 
 
 "My wife," he said coldly, and his words were 
 weighed with deliberation "my wife has not con 
 cerned herself seriously about me or my affairs for a 
 great many years. One at her age is not likely to 
 change materially; and I doubt if she is as much in 
 terested as you imagine. The reward, I observe, was 
 offered by my son not by my wife. 
 
 "But as for my son," he said hesitatingly, "since 
 you are in his employ your first duty is of course to 
 him ; and I presume the only thing to do is for you to 
 report the facts to him. But before doing so I beg 
 that you let me go away somewhere I can t bear 
 the thought of facing him in my present condition." 
 
 "No, no no!" she exclaimed, "I shall not leave 
 you or let you go. Duty or no duty, I shall remain 
 with you if you go away I will follow you to the 
 ends of the earth. You are in no condition to be left 
 alone. You were my father s friend; you have been 
 the best friend in the world to me, and my first duty is 
 to you. Your life may be endangered again; and 
 your son would acquit me of any wrongdoing for your 
 sake. Oh, please let me stay, Mr. Farnsworth - 
 won t you?" And leaning forward on the bed, she 
 buried her face in her hands. 
 
 He reached over and stroked her hair tenderly. 
 
 134
 
 THE TURNING POINT 
 
 "Kitty, you are a noble girl. It wrings my heart to see 
 you in tears and know that I am responsible for them. 
 I couldn t deny your request, even if I wished to ; and 
 certainly I have no such desire." 
 
 "Then you promise?" as she looked up quickly. 
 
 "Yes, I promise, but " 
 
 "But what, Mr. Farnsworth?" 
 
 "I was going to say that my finances " 
 
 "Are in a deplorable state of depletion," she inter 
 rupted, finishing his sentence. "But I have a hundred 
 dollars in my purse, Mr. Farnsworth, and before 
 that s exhausted I ll look for a position. Then when 
 you get well you can make plenty of money." 
 
 He looked at her dubiously, and slowly shook his 
 head. Seeing his incredulity, she said, "Come, please 
 be cheerful. Only a little while ago it was you who 
 said we may as well look on the best side of things. 
 See how quickly I adopt your suggestion? Let me be 
 your cashier and manage the finances for a while." 
 
 "What can I do but consent?" he asked resignedly. 
 "Then, too, do you remember what I once told you 
 about whom I should appeal to if ever I became an 
 object of charity? Little did I think how accurately I 
 was prophesying the very condition that now confronts 
 me !" he said regretfully. 
 
 "Oh, pshaw! you mustn t talk that way you re a 
 rich man; and even if you hadn t a dollar, you have 
 lots of ability to earn money, and you wouldn t remain 
 
 135
 
 CHAPTER TWELVE 
 
 poor very long. It s impossible to keep a good man 
 down." 
 
 After Kitty left to go to her room, Mr. Farnsworth 
 got up and walked about as he meditated over her re 
 marks. Coming in contact again with someone he had 
 known in his prosperous days one who admired him, 
 sympathized with him, and possessed full confidence 
 in his ability raised him out of his despondency, 
 gave him renewed courage, and grounded him more 
 firmly in the belief in himself. He began to reason 
 out the causes leading up to the futility of his mis 
 directed efforts of late. "Why, I m no more fitted for 
 the positions I ve been seeking than the persons occu 
 pying those positions are fitted for the work I ve been 
 accustomed to!" he reasoned. "I ve permitted my 
 troubles to weigh me down; I ve lost my bearings here 
 amid strange conditions and strange people, and like a 
 man lost in the forest, I ve been running distractedly 
 in the opposite direction from the way to success. 
 And now to think that after all my years of experience 
 and knowledge of men and affairs it falls to the lot of 
 a mere child in worldly observation to remind me of 
 my capacity and the opportunities that are open to 
 me!" 
 
 136
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 A COZY BREAKFAST FOR TWO 
 
 Soon after Mr. Farnsworth had completed his toilet 
 in the morning he heard a gentle rap at his door, and 
 on opening it, there stood Kitty with one of the maids 
 bearing a large tray of dishes. 
 
 "Just set it down there, Nellie," she said as she 
 cleared the center table, "and I ll attend to arranging 
 the dishes." 
 
 After spreading the tablecloth and setting the break 
 fast for two, consisting of fruit, boiled eggs, toast and 
 coffee, 
 
 "There, now!" she said; "I don t know whether you 
 like boiled eggs or not; but you ve got to eat them 
 anyway, because they re good for you your nurse 
 prescribes them." 
 
 "A breakfast fit for a prince!" as he drew his chair 
 up to the table and sat down opposite her. "Kitty, 
 you are a wonder," he said when he had finished his 
 orange. "I used to read of such women in books, but 
 I never saw one in flesh and blood existence before." 
 
 "Sh-sh," she said "I refuse to be called such 
 ambiguous names. Sugar and cream in your coffee?" 
 as she daintily held up a lump of sugar between her 
 thumb and forefinger, while the aroma issued from the 
 little coffee pot at her elbow. She dropped the lump 
 
 137
 
 CHAPTER THIRTEEN 
 
 into the cup, and after pouring in the cream she started 
 pouring the coffee, while with the other hand she 
 reached for a piece of toast. "Please excuse my 
 fingers, and take this piece of toast and butter it while 
 it s hot. I boiled those eggs three this coffee runs 
 slower than molasses the thing must be stopped 
 up. Let s see, what was I saying when the coffee-pot 
 interrupted me? Oh, yes, those eggs they boiled 
 three minutes I hope you ll like them that way. 
 We professional nurses, you know, are always allowed 
 to go into the kitchen and cook the food for our 
 patients ; so I exercised my prerogative the first thing. 
 You should have seen me lord it over those people 
 down there; and you d have laughed to hear me tell 
 them what a sick man ought to eat. Is your coffee 
 sweet enough? I m not surprised that you re half 
 starved in this boarding house. The woman looked as 
 if she thought I was crazy when I asked for four fresh 
 eggs. Said they only bought a dozen at a time. How 
 is that toast? I toasted four slices, but the girl dropped 
 one on the floor as we came up the stairs, so we ll have 
 to get along with three this morning. Do take that 
 other piece I only want one." 
 
 Thus she chatted gaily along through the meal, and 
 Mr. Farnsworth was so captivated by her thoughtful- 
 ness and lighthearted manner that he forgot for the time 
 being that he had ever had a care or a moment s pain. 
 For the past sixteen years it had been his custom to 
 
 138
 
 A COZY BREAKFAST FOR TWO 
 
 breakfast alone, except on Sundays, and during all 
 those years spent amid wealth and luxury he had not 
 enjoyed a morning meal as he had this one. 
 
 At the conclusion of the meal, when she was clearing 
 the table, and putting the dishes on the tray, he said, - 
 
 "Kitty, the least I can say for you and your break 
 fast is that the past half hour has been the happiest I 
 have spent in many years." 
 
 "You ought to be the happiest man in the world, 
 Mr. Farnsworth it takes so little to make you so. 
 Already you look and act ten years younger than you 
 did yesterday, and at that rate, we ll soon make a 
 young man of you again." 
 
 "Yes, with your ways you could make a man most 
 anything you wanted him to be. A few hours ago I 
 thought life wasn t worth living, yet it never seemed 
 sweeter nor more hopeful than it does at this moment. 
 It is just these little things that we men like so much, 
 and seldom get. There is some saying about looking 
 after the pennies, and letting the dollars take care of 
 themselves. If men and women would practice this 
 motto in the home relationship there would be more 
 happiness and fewer applications for divorce." 
 
 After a few thoughtful moments, Kitty remarked 
 "I never could see why people refuse to be agreeable 
 when they have everything to make them so. Mother 
 used to say that the trouble with most married women 
 is that they make no effort to study their husbands; 
 
 139
 
 CHAPTER THIRTEEN 
 
 and that every man has some vulnerable spot besides 
 the proverbial stomach. She used to say that a man 
 needs to be fed on love and attentions, the same as you 
 would give him food just enough to satiate him, but 
 never enough to nauseate him." 
 
 "Yes, Kitty, your mother was a very tactful woman. 
 Your father often told me that their married life was a 
 perennial honeymoon." 
 
 "They were very happy together," said Kitty, as 
 she sat, with downcast eyes, in a dreamy, reminiscent 
 mood. "What belonged to one always belonged 
 equally to the other, and what pained one always 
 seemed equally to pain the other even to the point 
 of death, for he soon followed her." 
 
 "I knew your mother before your father married 
 her. She was not of the type of women who make 
 the mistake of keeping their husbands in perpetual 
 ignorance of how much they love them, and imagining 
 that they should keep up a constant show of dignity 
 and reserve." 
 
 When Kitty left the room a little later Mr. Farns- 
 worth sat for some moments in a reflective mood. 
 
 "What a priceless jewel that girl is!" he thought as 
 he gazed at the door she had just closed. "And what 
 an added incentive a man would have in life, with a 
 wife such as she to encourage and spur him on, in 
 stead of one that operated as a damper on his ambi 
 tions whenever he attempted to do a kind act, or dared 
 
 140
 
 A COZY BREAKFAST FOR TWO 
 
 harbor a dream of domestic happiness. She could 
 inspire hope in a wooden image! Indeed I wasn t 
 much better than a wooden man when she found me, 
 and" getting up "already I m beginning to feel 
 like Alexander the Great !" 
 
 Soon after Kitty went out Mr. Farnsworth put on 
 his coat and hat and went down town, stopping at the 
 first barber shop he saw. 
 
 "Been prospecting up in the ills, sir?" inquired the 
 barber as he leisurely surveyed the task before him. 
 
 "Yes, I ve been in the ills," he said jokingly. 
 
 When he rose from the chair later and viewed him 
 self in the mirror he looked and felt, for the first time 
 since leaving home, somewhat like the Jefferson 
 Farnsworth of former days. 
 
 Upon returning to the house he found Kitty in 
 street attire, much disturbed over his sudden disappear 
 ance. 
 
 "Why, Uncle!" she exclaimed, "where have you been 
 and what under the sun have you done to yourself?" 
 
 "Nothing, Kitty, except to demonstrate what a good 
 nurse you are. I may as well tell you now, you ll 
 never succeed as a professional nurse your patients 
 will get well so quickly that the doctors will all boycott 
 you. Two hours ago I was a bewhiskered invalid, 
 having my meals carried to me, and now I feel as if I 
 could do a hundred yards in ten seconds, all due to 
 you, Kitty." 
 
 141
 
 CHAPTER THIRTEEN 
 
 "Oh, I m so glad to see you looking and feeling so 
 much better." 
 
 "Yes, it all seems like a happy combination of 
 miracles, so impossible that I can t believe yet that 
 my health and good spirits are anything but an illusion. 
 And yet the experiences of the past few weeks seem 
 even more like a dream; or rather, a nightmare." 
 
 "It seems a pity, don t you think, to keep such good 
 news from your son? I m just aching to send him a 
 message," she said enthusiastically. 
 
 It did not occur to him that Tom could be notified 
 without his wife also learning about him; and that 
 was the thing he wished to avoid. At length he 
 replied, 
 
 "This involves many considerations. I am not yet 
 prepared to have them know my condition; and still, 
 it will be impossible for you to return, as of course you 
 must, without notifying them." 
 
 Noting the troubled look in his face she instantly 
 regretted having brought the subject up so soon, and 
 turned the matter off by saying, - 
 
 "Never mind, uncle, those matters will take care of 
 themselves later. Meanwhile I must run down town 
 and do a few errands," as she waved good-by and 
 skipped lightly down the stairs. 
 
 Mr. Farnsworth went to his room and lighting a 
 cigar sat down to map out some new plan of action. 
 Kitty s appearance on the scene had already revived 
 
 142
 
 A COZY BREAKFAST FOR TWO 
 
 in him some of his old-time self-reliance. Upon 
 rallying his normal senses he now set his mind in con 
 sistent order to the task before him, that of placing 
 himself on a firm footing in the world. 
 
 Obviously now the thing of first importance was to 
 establish relationship with someone who was in the 
 position to give him a start ; and Sheldon was of course 
 the logical man. In him he could even confide the 
 secret of his real identity, which would at once insure 
 him a hearty welcome. 
 
 "How could I have been so utterly stupid as not to 
 have done this before?" he asked himself. As he was 
 passing the bureau in walking restlessly about the 
 room he stopped before the mirror and glanced at the 
 reflection of his changed features. "A veritable 
 Jekyll and Hyde transformation!" he mused, "out 
 wardly and inwardly." 
 
 At the time of leaving home he was a director, and a 
 large stockholder of record, in the Sheldon Mining 
 Company, of which the elder Mr. Sheldon had been 
 president. "Perhaps the stock still stands in my 
 name! Perhaps I am still a director! What if the 
 vacant presidency has not yet been filled!" 
 
 He financed the mines for Mr. Sheldon years before, 
 and was the fiscal agent in the East; he had been all 
 over the properties and understood the financial affairs 
 from A to Z. Moreover he enhanced the material 
 wealth of several of his friends whom he induced to go 
 
 143
 
 CHAPTER THIRTEEN 
 
 in on the "ground floor" when the mines were first 
 opened. As he revolved these matters in his mind he 
 marveled at his previous blindness to the opportunities 
 that now seemed to stand out before him. 
 
 "Why, instead of applying for a servile clerkship 
 there, as I did a short time ago, I should have applied 
 for the presidency! the presidency! Imagine Jefferson 
 Farnsworth, in his right mind, sweeping out the office 
 and running errands for the Sheldon Mining Company, 
 which he virtually organized and financed, and in 
 which he now holds more stock than any other interest 
 outside of the Sheldon estate! I ll go and see young 
 Sheldon at once, and tell him who I am." 
 
 He strode about the room with boyish impatience, 
 consulting his watch every few minutes, and wishing 
 Kitty would hurry back so he could tell her of his plans. 
 A little later there was a tap at the door, and at his 
 bidding Kitty entered. 
 
 "Excuse me, uncle, I didn t mean to stay so long, 
 but I met that Mr. Sheldon again, and he insisted on 
 asking me a whole string of questions if I found my 
 man, if I liked the town, where I was stopping, how 
 long I am to remain here, and fifty other things. He 
 seemed much interested thought I looked like some 
 one he knew, and all that sort of thing. I told him I 
 had found my uncle, who had been ill; then he in 
 quired if we knew the Farnsworths. I told him we 
 did; and he went on to tell me what close friends his 
 
 144
 
 A COZY BREAKFAST FOR TWO 
 
 father and Mr. Farnsworth were. He even asked me 
 to go out driving with him! And, say, what else do 
 you think he asked me? He wanted to know if my 
 uncle was the same person that he told me about when 
 I presented my letter of introduction at the bank. I 
 didn t know what to say, but after stammering awhile 
 I told him I d ask you if you had been in to see him. 
 I thought I should never get away from him. Did 
 you think I had run away?" 
 
 After this volley of rapid-fire statements and ques 
 tions she drew a deep breath, and sat down. 
 
 "No; but if you had, I couldn t have followed you 
 very far on my capital of sixty-five cents, of which I 
 find myself possessed after paying for a haircut, sham 
 poo, shave, shine, and a cigar. If ever I make any 
 financial headway in the world I can look back and 
 truthfully say that I started without a dollar. " 
 
 "But," she said, "you promised to let me take care 
 of the finances until you got to earning money again." 
 
 "Pardon me, Kitty, for interfering with your 
 prerogatives. While you were out Mr. Alexander 
 has been having a silent talk with Jefferson Farns 
 worth, and incidentally calling him a few names." 
 
 "How dreadful! Tell me about it, uncle," she said 
 eagerly. 
 
 "Well, omitting the details, and getting at the results 
 when the elder Mr. Sheldon died he was the presi 
 dent of the Sheldon Mining Company; and up to the 
 
 145
 
 CHAPTER THIRTEEN 
 
 time I left New York the vacancy had not been filled. 
 Before you came here I as Horace Alexander 
 went to the principal office and applied for a position 
 as clerk, and was almost scornfully refused. Later I 
 went back and tried to get a position as messenger. 
 Now, since you came, my aspirations have advanced. 
 I see that in the first instance I applied for the wrong 
 position ; and the second time, for one that was already 
 filled. I m going back now as Jeffersqn Farns- 
 worth and apply for the presidency, which pays ten 
 thousand dollars a year; and I m going to get it, too, 
 if it hasn t already been filled. As messenger I could 
 only get about five dollars a week. Looks like an 
 unwarranted assumption, doesn t it, Kitty?" 
 
 He was quite taken back by her composedness and 
 her laconic reply. 
 
 "Why, no; I don t think so at all. They would be 
 lucky to get you for president." 
 
 "Kitty, you are a marvel. I thought this prodigious 
 idea would startle you out of your senses ; but it seems 
 to strike you as the natural thing to do. You certainly 
 have the instinct of a true helpmate, to encourage 
 a man by an unwavering confidence in him." 
 
 "You seem to have forgotten who you are," she 
 said: "You are Jefferson Farnsworth, the New York 
 banker, a man of large affairs. And what s more, 
 you are still the head of a large banking institution 
 there." 
 
 146
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 KITTY S VERSATILITY 
 
 Next morning Mr. Farnsworth went to call upon 
 Mr. Sheldon. He walked up the stone steps and 
 entered the bank with almost the same alertness and 
 air of confidence that he would have felt in entering 
 his own office six months before. On being shown 
 into Mr. Sheldon s office that gentleman looked up in 
 surprise. 
 
 "Why you have changed since I last saw you!" 
 
 "Yes, my beard, you mean. I changed it at the 
 barber s for a clean face," he said good naturedly. "I 
 came in to apologize for the abrupt manner of my 
 leaving you the other day. As you doubtless saw, 
 I was greatly upset at the time. I also wish to 
 confess" as he closed the door leading into the 
 counting room "that I have been guilty of a gross 
 deception." 
 
 "A deception!" echoed Mr. Sheldon, looking at him 
 curiously "Whom have you deceived?" 
 
 "Everybody; but principally myself." 
 
 He asked for a pen and wrote on a piece of paper 
 which he handed to Mr. Sheldon 
 
 "Do you recognize that signature?" he asked. 
 
 Glancing at it, Mr. Sheldon glanced up at his ques 
 tioner with a wondering look. Without even excusing 
 
 147
 
 CHAPTER FOURTEEN 
 
 himself he passed into the counting room, and return 
 ing a few minutes later, said sternly, 
 
 "A clever forgery, sir; but that signature is no 
 longer in use at this bank." 
 
 "Perhaps not; but I have asked you for no money 
 on it." 
 
 "No, but I thought best to forestall any such possible 
 request," he said as he moved uneasily in his chair, 
 and shuffled the papers on his desk, indicating his 
 desire to terminate the interview. 
 
 Rising to his full height Mr. Farnsworth said: "I 
 may as well come to the point at once /am Jefferson 
 Farnsworth, at your service." 
 
 Mr. Sheldon grasped the arms of his chair and stared 
 at him with mingled surprise and contempt, astonished 
 at his impertinence. Seemingly convinced that the 
 man was an impostor, he asked, "Well, what are 
 your proposals? Please be brief." 
 
 "I don t understand you," said Mr. Farnsworth 
 haughtily. 
 
 "Nor do I understand what kind of a clumsy trick 
 you are trying to play," retorted the other. 
 
 "Pardon my stupidity I now appreciate your 
 point of view, which is but a natural one, " said 
 Mr. Farnsworth as he again seated himself. "It did not 
 occur to me that I have been dead several weeks. Do 
 you recall the run on this bank about ten years ago?" 
 
 "Yes, I remember it." 
 
 148
 
 KITTY S VERSATILITY 
 
 "Then perhaps you remember, also, that inside of 
 twenty-four hours from the time the run started, 
 Farnsworth & Company despatched a special car with 
 a hundred thousand dollars in gold and silver coin 
 from their Denver correspondents, and that that 
 money was poured out on your counters and desks, 
 and had the instant effect of restoring confidence and 
 stopping the run?" 
 
 "Yes, yes, I remember the incident perfectly," as he 
 leaned forward and stared eagerly at the speaker. 
 
 Leaning back in his chair Mr. Farnsworth pointed 
 to a large framed picture hanging over the president s 
 desk 
 
 "And do you know whose portrait that is?" 
 
 Looking up at the picture, then back to Mr. Farns 
 worth, he sprang to his feet and thrust out his hand, 
 
 "Great God! then you re not dead, after all! But 
 why didn t you tell me this before?" 
 
 Mr. Farnsworth related briefly the conditions that 
 prompted him to leave home, and after explaining why 
 he couldn t return, he hinted that he hoped he might 
 be of some service to the Sheldon Mining Company. 
 
 "Why, of course; you are just the man we want, 
 Mr. Farnsworth or, excuse me - Mr. Alexander. 
 Father would have given you a half interest in this bank 
 if you had asked for it, and the very least I could offer 
 you is the presidency of that mine, if you will accept the 
 same salary father drew ten thousand dollars a year." 
 
 149
 
 CHAPTER FOURTEEN 
 
 As he left the bank after some further conversation, 
 and hastened to tell Kitty the good news, he repeated 
 to himself, "Ten thousand dollars a year!" And 
 only a short time before he had applied for, and been 
 refused, a position as a grocery clerk at eight dollars a 
 week! And the files of the great Sheldon Mining 
 Company, of which he was now to become president, 
 contained his application for the position of errand boy ! 
 
 When he reached home he found the little table 
 drawn out in the center of the room, and on it there 
 was a box of Havana cigars, with ash tray and matches, 
 and some of the latest magazines. Beside the table 
 stood an easy chair, with a new smoking jacket laid 
 over the back, and the toes of a new pair of slippers 
 protruded from under the front of the chair. 
 
 "Kitty, you are irresistible," he said when she came 
 in a little later to learn the result of his interview. "I 
 wouldn t exchange you and my future prospects for a 
 kingdom and a thousand vassals thrown in." 
 
 "And pray, what are your prospects, that you set 
 such a high estimate upon them?" 
 
 "They are flattering; but they are nothing merely 
 nothing compared with you, or your companion 
 ship." 
 
 "I know, but you can t live on me or my companion 
 ship that won t buy necessaries and pay rent." 
 
 "But I have lived and thrived on it, and it has made 
 about the most wonderful change in me that was ever 
 
 ISO
 
 KITTY S VERSATILITY 
 
 wrought in a man. From abject poverty, dejection 
 and impending death to a complete state of health, 
 happiness and prospective affluence in a few hours is a 
 phenomenon worth recording; and that s precisely 
 what you ve done for me." 
 
 "I ve done nothing but what thousands of other 
 women could and would do if given the same oppor 
 tunities," she replied. 
 
 "I wish that were true ; or that in all the world there 
 was even one more girl like you, so I might introduce 
 her to my son Tom." 
 
 "Uncle, if you don t stop blarneying me you ll have 
 me so mixed up that I won t know what I am. I m a 
 wonder, a marvel, a prodigy, and lastly I am irresistible. 
 If I should happen to meet and fall in love with another 
 such irresistible force, just think what would happen! 
 But, come, you haven t told me the result of your 
 interview." 
 
 He told her briefly of the conference with Mr. 
 Sheldon. "A special meeting of the board will be 
 called in a few days," he said, "but in the meantime, 
 come to think of it, I must become a shareholder of 
 record for at least one share of stock, in the name of 
 Horace Alexander." 
 
 "I think we can fix that ;" she responded cheerfully 
 "just leave that little detail to your cashier." 
 
 "But, Kitty, you had only a hundred dollars when 
 you came, and " 
 
 151
 
 CHAPTER FOURTEEN 
 
 "Now, please don t ask me for an accounting until 
 the end of the month," she broke in. 
 
 Next morning Kitty called at the bank and was 
 shown to Mr. Sheldon s office. 
 
 "I told you I might telephone you in a day or so if ! 
 could go driving with you," she said, "but as my uncle 
 wished me to do a little errand for him, I came in. He 
 wishes to purchase one share of stock in the Sheldon 
 Mining Company in order to make him eligible in case 
 he is made president." 
 
 "Your unclel" he gasped "do you mean to tell me 
 you are Mr. Farnsworth s niece?" 
 
 "Why not?" she asked innocently, meeting his 
 astonished gaze with no sign of emotion. 
 
 "It s no wonder he s such a brilliant man," he said 
 half to himself, but intentionally loud enough for her 
 to hear. 
 
 "I never saw such a place for flattery ; it seems to be 
 in the air out here. Even my uncle has caught the 
 infection," she said laughingly. 
 
 "There is a vast difference, you know, between 
 flattery and honest praise," he replied. 
 
 After learning the market value of the stock Kitty 
 drew out her letter of credit on the Denver bank and 
 Mr. Sheldon cashed it for her. She counted out the 
 money for the stock and handed it to him, but he re 
 turned it smilingly "Don t bother about that, 
 please. I have already anticipated the need, and 
 
 152
 
 KITTY S VERSATILITY 
 
 ordered a hundred shares put in the name of Horace 
 Alexander." 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Sheldon!" she exclaimed in astonishment, 
 "You are altogether too good. I m afraid uncle can 
 never repay your kindness." 
 
 "But I assure you he has already paid it a hundred 
 times over, in advance. Had it not been for his kind 
 ness to my father I should have had no bank here to 
 be president of, and no mining company to make him 
 president of." 
 
 As she arose to go Mr. Sheldon said, "Please don t 
 accuse me again if I observe that Mr. Farnsworth is a 
 very fortunate man in having so charming a niece to 
 look after these matters for him." 
 
 She colored slightly, and replied quickly, "But he is 
 more highly favored in having the confidence of those 
 who know and appreciate his kind-heartedness and his 
 capabilities." 
 
 "You haven t yet promised to go driving with me," 
 he said, as she turned to go. 
 
 "No ; the truth is, Mr. Sheldon, my time has been so 
 taken up with my uncle s affairs that I have denied 
 myself all other pleasures; and I have thought best to 
 make no engagements until he is comfortably settled. 
 You are very kind, and I hope you won t think me 
 ungrateful. When uncle is more at ease I shall feel 
 less constrained," she said, looking up at him with a 
 sweet smile that meant more to him than all her words. 
 
 153
 
 CHAPTER FOURTEEN 
 
 "I quite understand, and shall be content to await 
 your pleasure," he said as he bowed her out. 
 
 If she had looked back as she walked briskly down 
 the street she would have seen him standing at the 
 front window of his office with both hands thrust deep 
 into his pockets, looking wistfully at her retreating 
 figure. 
 
 William Wilder Sheldon was a typical western man 
 of affairs. A number of daring escapades were 
 credited to his boyhood days, and his boy associates 
 nicknamed him "Wilhelm der Wild." This sobriquet 
 followed him through college in the East ; but the last 
 year or two of his college life had brought him to his 
 sober senses, and upon returning home he took a posi 
 tion as "runner" in his father s bank. By degrees he 
 worked himself up to the vice-presidency, and for the 
 past three years, while his father s attentions were 
 absorbed chiefly in the mining business, the manage 
 ment of the bank had rested largely upon him. 
 
 Although of splendid physique he never interested 
 himself very much in college athletics, or even in 
 college studies. A great deal of his time was spent in 
 Boston, and once he had a love affair with an actress 
 which caused his parents a great deal of anxiety. 
 Under competent tutelage he managed at the end of 
 four years to squeeze through and get his degree, 
 which he admitted to his college mates was wholly 
 gratuitous. 
 
 154
 
 KITTY S VERSATILITY 
 
 His father once told him that he ought to have been 
 sent to a girls seminary where he could study the 
 faces and habits of the gentler sex with less waste of 
 time and money. When his parents refused to con 
 sent to his marrying the actress, he declared that he 
 would never marry anyone, and thus far he had kept 
 his vow. Locally he was looked upon as a good 
 "catch," and although he had frequently been seen in 
 the company of young women, none had succeeded in 
 attracting his serious attentions. He was sometimes 
 called "Batch" Sheldon. With his sister he inherited 
 his father s wealth, variously estimated at from two 
 to three millions. 
 
 As he now stood behind the window while his eyes 
 followed Kitty down the street he exclaimed to himself : 
 
 "By thunder ! she s as clever and elusive as she is 
 beautiful !" 
 
 It was something new for a girl to refuse to drive or 
 dine with him, and yet this girl had shown clearly that 
 she was not over-anxious to do either. 
 
 "For the favor of that little enchantress I d give that 
 uncle of hers the whole of my interest in that mine, 
 with the presidency thrown in," he mused as he turned 
 back to his desk. 
 
 In less than four weeks after Kitty found Mr. 
 Farnsworth he was elected president of the Sheldon 
 Mining Company. He was also elected to the board 
 
 155
 
 CHAPTER FOURTEEN 
 
 of directors to fill the vacancy caused by his own death 
 some weeks previous. Mr. Sheldon was elected a 
 director in place of his father. 
 
 Kitty, who had just heard the news from Mr. 
 Sheldon at the bank, was hurrying to the hotel - 
 where they had now taken more comfortable quarters 
 to tell Mr. Farnsworth, when just as she was cross 
 ing the street she heard someone call, - 
 
 "Oh, Miss Bellinger!" 
 
 Upon looking around she stared into the face of a 
 young man whom she recognized as one of the clerks 
 she had seen in Farnsworth & Company s office. For 
 a moment she was stunned and did not speak. 
 
 "Good Heavens!" she moaned, half audibly, at the 
 thought of their being discovered. She stood looking 
 at him in sheer desperation, when suddenly taking a 
 cue from a farce she had once seen enacted on the 
 stage, she looked up at the tops of the buildings, and 
 pointing with her finger as he advanced toward her, - 
 
 "Look! look! He s coming down! he s coming 
 down! Oh! Oh! He s falling !" 
 
 "Who s falling?" asked the young man as he turned 
 quickly and looked up. She ran up to him and grasp 
 ing the fleshy part of his arm she shook it and pinched 
 it so that he almost cried out with pain. Seeing that 
 her stratagem was at once effective she went on with 
 growing confidence 
 
 "Can t you can t you can t you see him, you blind 
 
 156
 
 KITTY S VERSATILITY 
 
 idiot? My husband ! my husband ! He s hiding from 
 me. There! he s crawling back ! Just look at him !" 
 
 Again he turned to look, this time edging away at a 
 safe distance. 
 
 "I thought you said he was falling," he said as he 
 saw nothing unusual on the housetops. 
 
 "Yes, he was ; but he caught himself, and Oh, look ! 
 look! there he comes down again, head first." And 
 seizing his arm again with both hands she shook him 
 with all her might. 
 
 "Who what who is he?" he asked, as he tried 
 to shake himself free. 
 
 "Why, don t you know him, you poor imbecile? 
 He s my long lost husband, and I, Sherlock Holmes," 
 she exclaimed, as she jammed her hat down on her 
 head and gesticulated with her free arm, "have been 
 hunting for him all these years ! And now when I find 
 him he dashes his brains out before my very eyes." 
 
 Observing that her actions were beginning to attract 
 the notice of the passersby she seized him by the coat 
 sleeve, "Come along with me !" she commanded 
 "You ll do just as well. I ll marry you, even with your 
 face ! and get even with him for deceiving me." 
 
 As she dragged him along, a few of the onlookers fol 
 lowed. He was so alarmed by this sudden maniacal out 
 burst that once he endeavored to jerk away and run ; but 
 she tightened her grip and he thought it was better to go 
 quietly along to avoid further commotion in the street, 
 
 157
 
 CHAPTER FOURTEEN 
 
 "Where are you taking me?" he asked at length. 
 
 "Why, don t you know? You just promised to 
 marry me. We re going to the station to get married. 
 You don t imagine you can escape me now, do you, 
 after all these anxious years?" 
 
 He saw that they were approaching the railroad 
 station, and cast about for some alley where he might 
 escape; but suspecting his thoughts she twitched at 
 his arm and continued to pull him along. When 
 they arrived at the station a passenger train was stand 
 ing on the track. 
 
 "Conductor! where does this train go?" she asked. 
 
 "It goes to Kansas City," was the reply. 
 
 "All right, go ahead then ;" she answered, "We re 
 going the other way to Denver to get married 
 aren t we, dearie? I m just dying to marry you !" she 
 said as she released her hold and stood staring into his 
 face. 
 
 "Not on your life" he said, as he dashed away and 
 clambered aboard the train, leaving her standing 
 laughing hysterically. 
 
 When the train pulled out Kitty hurried to the hotel 
 and found Mr. Farnsworth in his room. In a state of 
 breathless exhaustion she dropped into a chair and 
 broke into paroxysms of laughter. 
 
 "Why, Kitty what has happened?" he asked. 
 
 "Ha! ha! Oh, dear me! it was the most ridiculous 
 scene you ever saw;" and again she became hysterical. 
 
 158
 
 KITTY S VERSATILITY 
 
 "My dear Kitty ! What has come over you? Have 
 you gone crazy?" 
 
 "Yes, yes, that s it I m crazy; that s just it!" as 
 she leaned far back in the large rocking chair. 
 
 He jumped up and ran to the bathroom for a towel 
 which he dipped in water, and moistened her brow. 
 
 "In heaven s name, what has happened?" he asked 
 excitedly. 
 
 "Thank you, I feel better now, and I ll tell you about 
 it;" and she proceeded to relate what had occurred. 
 
 When she had finished Mr. Farnsworth said, - 
 
 "Well, Kitty, you are a versatile genius, a detec 
 tive, a nurse, a financier, and now a crazy woman! 
 What next?" 
 
 "Oh, I m so sorry I made such a show of myself on 
 the street. What will people think of me? But I 
 simply had to scare that man out of town and get rid of 
 him at any cost. Poor fellow, he was so frightened, I 
 wonder that he didn t collapse on my hands before I 
 got him to the station. You just can t imagine the 
 feeling of desperation that came over me. At first 
 I felt I was acting like a fool, but when I saw he actu 
 ally thought I was crazy, it gave me confidence, and 
 really I lost all sense of propriety I can scarcely 
 realize how I succeeded so well. 
 
 "Oh, uncle, what if he should come back again!" 
 she finally exclaimed in alarm. 
 
 159
 
 When Mr. Farnsworth s position was assured, he 
 and Kitty began casting about for more spacious living 
 quarters. They were of one mind that in view of 
 the approaching warm weather it would be desirable 
 to find a quiet retreat in the suburbs, or even a few miles 
 out in the country. Mr. Sheldon placed his carriage 
 at their disposal and his coachman who was acquainted 
 with the locality, showed them about. They spent 
 several afternoons driving around, but vacant houses 
 were scarce, and such available ones as they found 
 were badly located, and in a poor state of repair. 
 
 One pleasant day while driving out in the country 
 the coachman pointed out a place on the hillside about 
 half a mile from the road, which he said was known 
 as the Haunted Caves. 
 
 "Oh, let s visit them!" cried Kitty; and the man 
 reluctantly turned in at the entrance leading up to the 
 place. It was a steep climb by a circuitous route over 
 a rugged way. Apparently it had at some previous 
 time been a beautiful driveway, with overhanging 
 boughs, but the brush and weeds had now grown up, 
 and to all appearances it was unfrequented. Upon 
 coming within a few hundred yards of the buildings 
 they were halted by a large tree which had been felled 
 
 160
 
 THE HAUNTED CAVES 
 
 across the path to block the passage, and on the log 
 was a crudely painted placard, 
 
 NO TRESPASSING. 
 
 Leaving the carriage, Mr. Farnsworth and Kitty 
 continued the journey afoot the coachman declin 
 ing to venture further and on reaching their desti 
 nation they found a large, two-story dwelling, well 
 located in a cluster of tall trees. In front were six 
 large columns supporting a superstructure extending 
 out over a broad piazza, and the rear of the building 
 stood close up against the base of a perpendicular cliff 
 with jagged overhanging rocks. 
 
 Though the blinds were closed, the large front door 
 stood wide open, and as they stepped inside Kitty 
 remarked, 
 
 "Ugh ! doesn t it seem spooky?" 
 
 Inside the house the hardwood floors and trimmings 
 were in a good state of preservation ; and after inspect 
 ing the lower front rooms they passed to the rear and 
 found a passageway which led back into a cave about 
 eight by twelve feet, under the precipice. Mr. 
 Farnsworth struck a match and saw that at the 
 farther left hand corner there was a heavy door 
 loosely swung on large iron hinges. 
 
 "Looks like the retreat of a band of outlaws," he 
 remarked as he opened the door and peered curiously 
 into the next room, which was a little smaller than 
 
 161
 
 CHAPTER FIFTEEN 
 
 the first. In this room was a crudely constructed table 
 on which stood a tallow candle. He lit the candle and 
 saw that from a crevice in the wall there protruded a 
 small iron bar on which hung a much worn duck jacket 
 with a pair of old trousers. A stool stood near by, 
 and in one corner was a narrow bed on which lay an 
 old mattress with some bed clothes piled in confusion. 
 
 "Some one must inhabit this place," remarked Mr. 
 Farnsworth as he groped about with the candle. 
 
 "Let s get out ; we may be intruding," said Kitty in 
 alarm as she started for the door. As they came out 
 they found a door at the right of the passageway which 
 led into a small room used as a kitchen. It was fur 
 nished with a little cookstove, a table, a bench, and a 
 few crude cooking utensils. It was evident that this 
 room had been recently tenanted. As Kitty looked 
 out at a side window which was let down from the top 
 she uttered a shriek and drew back. Mr. Farnsworth 
 sprang forward and looking out he saw an old white- 
 bearded man sitting on a large rock at the base of the 
 ledge with an old army musket lying across his knees. 
 
 "Hello, my friend;" he called out, "do you occupy 
 these premises?" Without answering, the old man slid 
 down off the rock and started toward the window. Bent 
 with years, he ambled along, keeping his small bead- 
 like eyes fixed steadily on the figure in the window. 
 
 "Pardon us for trespassing, but we didn t know the 
 place was occupied," said Mr. Farnsworth. 
 
 162
 
 THE HAUNTED CAVES 
 
 "It is occupied;" said the old man sulkily; then as 
 his eyes rested on Kitty, who now came up and stood 
 beside Mr. Farnsworth, his countenance softened. 
 "But I don t object to visitors if they are the right sort. 
 You know this place is haunted, and nobody will live 
 here but me and the ghosts. But they ve never 
 bothered me any." 
 
 "Oh, how delightful! I love haunted houses," 
 chimed in Kitty s sweet musical voice. 
 
 "Then you re more afraid of me than you are of a 
 ghost," he said smilingly. 
 
 "No, indeed, I m not at all afraid of you; but your 
 presence was so unexpected that I was startled for a 
 moment." 
 
 The old man walked around and came in through the 
 front door. They heard his footsteps echo through 
 the hall as he approached. 
 
 "What a strange looking old man!" whispered 
 Kitty "perhaps he has an interesting history. Let s 
 find out about him." 
 
 When the hermit appeared at the kitchen door he 
 apologized for the run-down appearance of things, and 
 invited them to make themselves at home. His 
 manner and language indicated that he was a man of 
 some education. 
 
 "I don t have many visitors here, and no women 
 folks around to keep things tidy," he said. 
 
 "Don t you ever get lonesome?" inquired Kitty. 
 
 163
 
 CHAPTER FIFTEEN 
 
 "Lonesome? No ; bless you, I never think of that." 
 
 Mr. Farnsworth lighted a cigar and offered him one, 
 which he took. 
 
 "It s been so long since I had a cigar that I ve most 
 forgotten how to smoke one. My old pipe and gun 
 are my only steady companions here." 
 
 Under the mellowing influence of the Havana and 
 Kitty s pleasing smiles and inquisitiveness the old 
 hermit became quite loquacious. They talked of the 
 country about, and of mining matters, and Mr. 
 Farnsworth told him that he was interested in Colorado 
 mines. 
 
 At length Kitty remarked, "I should think this place 
 must have an interesting history; would you mind 
 telling us about it how it came to be haunted?" 
 
 "Yes, it has a long history, and there are lots of 
 stories and legends about it." The old man went out 
 and soon returned with a box, on which he seated 
 himself. 
 
 "Sit down on that bench, both of you, and I ll tell 
 you about it, if you d like to listen." 
 
 "Yes, please do," said Kitty as she seated herself on 
 the bench and pulled Mr. Farnsworth down at her 
 side. 
 
 "Father and daughter, I reckon ;" said the hermit as 
 he sat facing them. 
 
 "No, I m sorry to say she s no nearer relation than 
 a niece," replied Mr. Farnsworth. 
 
 164
 
 THE HAUNTED CAVES 
 
 He then proceeded with his story. "You see this 
 place was built a great many years ago by a man from 
 the East. He was said to have lots of gold and silver 
 stored in the two caves back there," pointing toward 
 the underground openings they had just explored, 
 "and one night a band of robbers broke in and murdered 
 all three of them the man, wife, and son, and carried 
 off all the money. The bodies were dragged into one 
 of the caves back there, and after that night no one 
 would ever live here. The brush and trees grew up all 
 around the place, and people called it the Haunted 
 Caves. That was in the days of the James boys and 
 the Younger brothers and the Ford boys, back east in 
 Missouri. 
 
 "Well, about the time of the robbery, someone said 
 he saw Jesse James and Cole Younger in these parts, 
 and everybody thought the gang was here. Several 
 times after that different people said they saw smoke 
 coming from the chimneys here, but they were all 
 afraid to investigate. They thought the gang camped 
 here every little while, and even the officers of the law 
 gave this place a wide berth. 
 
 "Then about twenty years ago, shortly after Jesse 
 James was killed in Missouri, a man came out here 
 from the East, and he with a man from Chicago and 
 myself formed a partnership to look up mining pros 
 pects. I had saved up some money, and among us 
 we all had about a hundred thousand dollars. The 
 
 165
 
 CHAPTER FIFTEEN 
 
 man from the East didn t have any money when he 
 came, but a rich relative back there sent him a draft 
 for fifty thousand dollars." 
 
 He hesitated, and addressing Mr. Farnsworth, he 
 asked, "What makes you look so uneasy there? I 
 guess that seat is not as comfortable as you ve been 
 used to." 
 
 "I m quite comfortable, thank you. Here, light 
 another cigar. Your story interests me." 
 
 "Thank you, I don t mind if I do. Well, as I 
 was saying: the other man and myself knew the 
 country out here, so our experience was put into the 
 partnership to make up for what we lacked in having 
 as much money as he had, and we were equal partners. 
 We bought this place here cheap, and made it our 
 headquarters. The Chicago man was married and his 
 wife kept house for us. We bought up some mining 
 claims in different parts of the state, and one of them 
 proved to be a mighty rich find. 
 
 "A couple of years or so later we sold out our mines 
 to a syndicate for over half a million dollars. We all 
 went to Denver, collected the money in a draft on New 
 York, got it cashed and brought the money here, 
 mostly in large bills, done up in three bundles. We 
 reached here late in the afternoon, and that night 
 when we came to settle, Benson that was the name 
 of the man from the East kicked out of his agree 
 ment and wanted half of the money. You didn t 
 
 166
 
 THE HAUNTED CAVES 
 
 know the man, did you?" as he halted, noticing 
 Mr. Farnsworth s expression. 
 
 "Go on, go on, please tell us what happened." 
 
 "Well, this Benson," he said as he re-lighted his 
 cigar, "was always an ugly fellow to get along with, 
 and he claimed half of the money. It ended up in a 
 row, and the Chicago man pulled his gun. Like a 
 flash Benson knocked it out of his hand, then they 
 clinched and fell on the floor. In some way Benson 
 got hold of the gun and shot the other man." 
 
 "A murderer ! My God !" exclaimed Mr. Farnsworth. 
 
 "Yes, he came mighty near being a murderer. 
 Then he turned on me and before I could get out of 
 the way he hit me on the head with the big pistol and 
 I fell. I felt him hit me again while I was down, but 
 after that I knew nothing." 
 
 Lifting his hat and exposing a large scar on his head, 
 he continued, "You see this scar? Well, I ve never 
 been quite right since that time. Some folks say I m 
 crazy. But it only comes on in spells; and when I 
 feel it coming on I go into that dark cave out there 
 away from the daylight and lock myself in until I get 
 all right again! 
 
 "When I came to, Benson was gone, and he took all 
 the money with him, except about forty thousand 
 dollars in small bills. I guess he would have taken 
 them, too, but he had all he could get away with." 
 
 "And did the other man die?" asked Kitty excitedly. 
 
 167
 
 CHAPTER FIFTEEN 
 
 "No, he got well after a few months. We divided 
 what money Benson left, and I bought his interest in 
 this place. I ve waited here with that old musket 
 loaded ever since, for that man Benson to show his 
 face here again. Once I heard that he had died in San 
 Francisco, and his body was taken East; but I don t 
 believe it. I don t believe that God Almighty ever 
 intended for that man to die a natural death ; and year 
 after year I ve prayed that He would send him back 
 here on some excuse, so I could kill him like a sheep- 
 killing dog." 
 
 He glanced significantly at the musket which stood 
 leaning against the wall near by. 
 
 "Fortunately for the man himself, and perhaps for 
 the community at large," said Mr. Farnsworth, "the 
 report you heard is true he is dead." The old man 
 sprang to his feet and clenched his fists. A sinister 
 gleam shot from his little eyes. 
 
 "Then you knew him?" he asked. 
 
 "Yes, to my great sorrow." 
 
 "And you know for sure that he s dead?" 
 
 "Yes, absolutely. His remains were buried in New 
 York." 
 
 The old hermit sank down upon the box again and 
 with bowed head he fumbled nervously with his hands. 
 
 During all this time Kitty sat stupefied with wonder. 
 "What can it all mean?" she thought, noting Mr. 
 Farnsworth s interest. 
 
 168
 
 THE HAUNTED CAVES 
 
 At length the hermit looked up with a vacant ex 
 pression. "Then there s nothing more for me to live 
 for. For years I ve fought off old age, sickness, and 
 death, living on the one hope of meeting that man. 
 Something has told me that he would come back here, 
 and I ve waited and waited and waited for him. Now 
 I must die unrevenged." 
 
 "Don t you think," asked Kitty, "that he atoned for 
 his sins in mental and perhaps physical suffering? and 
 that his punishment was more prolonged than it would 
 have been if you had killed him? I believe that people 
 get at least some part of their retribution before they 
 die." 
 
 "Maybe you re right, young lady. I ll try to look at 
 it that way; but I ve always felt that he was living 
 somewhere in luxury on that money." Then with 
 quavering voice he said, "I hope the curse of God will 
 follow it wherever it went after his death, unless he 
 left it to charity and I know he never did that." 
 
 Mr. Farnsworth shuddered. 
 
 "You may at least find some consolation in knowing 
 that your wish was long ago anticipated in realization. 
 The curse followed the money. I can assure you of 
 that." 
 
 "Oh, I m sorry; I m sorry. I didn t mean what I said. 
 It s a pity his sins had to be handed down on innocent 
 persons. Don t think I m heartless. It s too bad; 
 too bad!" he moaned. "Now I begin to feel lonely. 
 
 169
 
 CHAPTER FIFTEEN 
 
 No relatives, and no one to come near me I must 
 die alone neglected. The hope of meeting that man 
 has kept me company, and warded off loneliness. 
 People around here are all afraid of me afraid I will 
 kill them with that gun. I ve kept it always at my 
 side or in my hand, night and day. But I pledge you 
 my word, I never had an evil thought against anybody, 
 but that one man." 
 
 "You shall not be entirely alone," said Kitty; "I will 
 come to see you; and perhaps my uncle will also. 
 Please don t be so discouraged." 
 
 Thus they departed, leaving the old man sitting on 
 the box near the kitchen stove, with his face buried in 
 his hands, while his elbows rested on his knees. 
 
 On the way home they were both in a meditative 
 mood, and but few words passed between them. 
 That evening Kitty asked, - 
 
 "Uncle, don t you suppose we could rent that place 
 and fix it up? Perhaps the old man would be glad to 
 have us there if we would let him stay." 
 
 "A good idea, Kitty; but what about the ghosts?" 
 
 "Pshaw! I don t believe in em. We didn t see 
 any, and I don t think anyone else ever did." 
 
 Next morning they drove out to the place again. 
 Mr. Farnsworth halloed as they entered the front door, 
 but the echo of his voice was the only response. They 
 looked about the grounds, in the kitchen, and into the 
 caves, but the hermit was nowhere to be found. As 
 
 170
 
 THE HAUNTED CAVES 
 
 they were returning from the caves they noticed an 
 open door leading up a back stairway, and mounting 
 the steps they came into a broad vacant hallway on 
 the second floor. Mr. Farnsworth halloed again, and 
 a feeble voice from one of the back rooms answered, 
 
 "Who s there?" 
 
 "Friends, who called on you yesterday," he said. 
 
 "Come in." 
 
 They opened the door, and there lay the old man on 
 a bed by a window at the farther side of the room. 
 
 "We are back again, you see," said Kitty as she 
 advanced and unwrapped a package containing some 
 sweetmeats which she arranged daintily on a little 
 stand by the bedside. 
 
 "Welcome! welcome! my friends, I m glad to see 
 you. I ve passed a long, uncomfortable night." 
 
 His eyes were sunken and to all appearances he was 
 in distress. 
 
 "You are too feeble to remain here alone," said 
 Kitty. 
 
 "Yes, but it s not for long;" he said sadly; "it will 
 soon be over. No one cares for me, and I don t want 
 to live." 
 
 "Won t you let me care for you?" asked Kitty, as 
 she looked compassionately down at him. 
 
 His eyes moistened and his lips twitched as he looked 
 up at her and smiled faintly. 
 
 "You seem like an angel; this is no place for you." 
 
 171
 
 CHAPTER FIFTEEN 
 
 "No, I m just a plain ordinary human being, and I m 
 going to prove it to you," she replied as she laid off her 
 wraps, and asked Mr. Farnsworth for a pencil and 
 paper. 
 
 "This reminds me of old times in New York," she 
 remarked as she made up a list of articles. "Let s 
 see sugar, coffee, bread, butter, cream, meat, 
 potatoes, coffee pot, frying pan, cups and saucers, 
 plates, knives, forks, and spoons," she rattled off as 
 she ran over the list she had made. "Oh, yes, there s 
 salt and a jar of raspberry jam. Now, Uncle, let s 
 send the man back to town for these, and while he s 
 gone if you ll make a fire, I ll tidy things up a little." 
 
 The old hermit stared at her in bland amazement, 
 as Mr. Farnsworth took the paper and started off. 
 
 "Oh, wait a second, uncle; tell the driver to go to 
 some intelligence office and hire a woman for a few 
 days, and bring her along. Say, uncle !" she 
 called from the door, as he was disappearing down the 
 steps ; "be sure and tell the man not to let that woman 
 know where he is taking her to or she might refuse to 
 come. And, uncle, just a second, please add 
 some soap and towels and dishcloths to that list 
 and a dishpan. That s all I think of now." 
 
 Early in the afternoon the man returned with the 
 several articles, and he brought along a sturdy looking 
 Irish woman. Kitty met them at the front door and 
 explained to the woman what she was to do. 
 
 172
 
 THE HAUNTED CAVES 
 
 "Are you afraid of ghosts?" she asked as they en 
 tered the kitchen. 
 
 "Holy Mother! is they ghosts in this house?" and 
 she turned to go out. 
 
 "No, no; come back; there are no ghosts here. I 
 was only joking." 
 
 The woman timidly entered the kitchen, casting her 
 eyes about with a doubtful air. 
 
 "Sure, oi m thot fraid of ghosts thot I d die in me 
 tracks if oi even heard one. They do say thot some 
 where hereabouts there s a hoonted cave thot not a 
 mother s son ll go near." 
 
 "You never saw the place, did you?" asked Kitty. 
 
 "No, mum, I d nivver git near enough to it for thot." 
 
 Kitty went to look for Mr. Farnsworth, and told him 
 he must make fast the door leading to the caves, or 
 they would surely lose their new cook. 
 
 A few days later when the old hermit had improved 
 in health and spirits he agreed to lease the premises to 
 Mr. Farnsworth on condition that he be allowed one 
 room and his board. 
 
 A gang of men were set to work cutting out and 
 repairing the driveway up to the house, and clearing 
 up about the premises. A force was also put to work 
 on the buildings, painting and getting them in order 
 for occupancy. New furniture was ordered, to arrive 
 as soon as the roadway was clear, and the house in 
 condition to receive it. 
 
 173
 
 CHAPTER FIFTEEN 
 
 Kitty was in high glee as she tripped about from one 
 part of the house to another, superintending the work 
 and making plans for locating the different pieces of 
 furniture. In due time the place was made ready for 
 occupancy, and Mr. Farnsworth and Kitty bade good-by 
 to their quarters at the hotel and took up their abode 
 at the Haunted Caves. 
 
 174
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 THE MYSTERIOUS LETTER 
 
 The adjacent country around the Haunted Caves 
 was sparsely settled, and there was but little travel 
 along the main thoroughfare in front of the place. 
 Scarcely an acre of arable soil was to be found within 
 a radius of a mile in any direction, though among the 
 rocks and ledges there was a heavy growth of brush 
 and scrub timber. In former years that section of the 
 country was regarded as an ideal retreat for outlaws. 
 
 These conditions, however, only enhanced the at 
 tractiveness of the place in Kitty s estimation, for in 
 her early girlhood days she had spent the summer 
 seasons on her father s country place in the Adiron- 
 dacks, where she rode horseback, fished in the lakes 
 and mountain streams, and for days at a time had 
 enjoyed the seclusion of the solitary retreat without 
 coming in contact with anyone from the outside 
 world. It was a sad blow to her when her mother s 
 death and her father s financial embarrassment com 
 pelled her to give up the place with all its childhood 
 associations. Since that time she had, in her hopes 
 and dreams, often pictured herself in just about such 
 a rustic resort as the one she had now found. 
 
 Mr. Farnsworth bought her a fine saddle horse from 
 Mr. Sheldon s stables, and already she had explored 
 
 175
 
 CHAPTER SIXTEEN 
 
 the country for miles about. She usually managed it 
 so that in returning from her rides she would reach 
 the entrance at about the time when Mr. Farnsworth 
 came out from town, and the anticipation of finding 
 Kitty waiting for him at the two large stone columns 
 guarding the gateway came to be one of the pleasant 
 incidents of his life. She would get into the back seat 
 with him and lead her horse behind while they chatted 
 over the happenings of the day. 
 
 She never failed to inquire about affairs at the office, 
 and she generally had an animated story to relate about 
 some new cave or chasm that she had discovered dur 
 ing the day. 
 
 After dinner in the cool late spring evenings she 
 would frequently curl herself up on the great bearskin 
 rug before the open fireplace in the lounging room and 
 chat with Mr. Farnsworth while he sipped his after din 
 ner coffee ; then listen while he read the newspaper, or 
 from some book ; occasionally showing her wakef ulness 
 and interest by interposing some remark or exclamation. 
 
 If moments of moodiness ever crept into her exist 
 ence she always banished them while in the presence 
 of Mr. Farnsworth, and she was ever alert to his per 
 sonal comforts in the home. The servants all loved 
 her, and the Irish cook remarked that with her sunny 
 disposition she had lured all the ghosts from their 
 ancient abode at the Haunted Caves, and made the 
 place cheery and habitable. 
 
 176
 
 THE MYSTERIOUS LETTER 
 
 In the morning hours when her musical voice rang 
 through the halls or about the yard, even the distant 
 hills seemed to smile back an echo of enchantment. 
 Indeed, the old hermit was moved to say that the place 
 no longer deserved its former appellation, but ought 
 henceforth to be known as the Enchanted Caves. 
 
 Some of their friends, including Mr. Sheldon, sug 
 gested that the word "Haunted" be dropped on account 
 of its forbidding aspect, and the place called the Caves ; 
 but Kitty insisted that it retain its old name, as there 
 was a quaintness about it that appealed to her. She 
 argued, "It won t frighten away our real friends, and 
 the rest of the world we don t care about." 
 
 One evening when Mr. Sheldon dined with them he 
 became so enraptured over Kitty and her pleasing 
 manners that just before his departure he drew Mr. 
 Farnsworth aside, - 
 
 "I must confess," he said, "that that bewitching 
 niece of yours has completely captivated me, and if 
 there s a ghost of a show of my making any impression 
 on her I should like to pay her some attention, 
 with your permission. She appears to be oblivious of 
 the fact that there is anyone else in the world but you, 
 and thus far I ve scarcely been able to get an approv 
 ing glance from her. Why, if you weren t related to 
 her I d swear that she is in love with you." 
 
 "Yes," replied Mr. Farnsworth, "Kitty has been a 
 great comfort to me ; I don t know what I should have 
 
 177
 
 CHAPTER SIXTEEH 
 
 done without her. I presume of course that sometime 
 she will marry and leave me; but the thought is so 
 depressing that I never permit myself to dwell on it. 
 I only know that while she s with me I m happy, and 
 that when she leaves me, as eventually she will, I " 
 
 "But suppose she should marry," interposed Mr. 
 Sheldon, "you could still make your home with her. 
 And if she married someone with whom you have 
 interests in common, it would make matters all the 
 more congenial for you." 
 
 "I had never thought of the matter in that light," he 
 said, "but I fear that I have in me enough of man s 
 characteristic selfishness to expect more attention than 
 she would be able to give me under those conditions. 
 A month in her company is filled with more real happi 
 ness than I ve had in the past nineteen years, and I 
 can t tell you how much I feel indebted to her. My 
 one consolation is that she is still young, and a few 
 months, or even a year or two, out of life at her age 
 means no great loss." 
 
 Mr. Farnsworth remained on the piazza while Mr. 
 Sheldon went in to say good night to Kitty. She had 
 glanced at them through the window and wondered 
 at the earnestness with which they spoke. Noticing 
 a troubled look on Mr. Farnsworth s face, she sur 
 mised that something had gone wrong at the office. 
 
 As Mr. Sheldon held her hand for a moment he 
 asked, - 
 
 178
 
 THE MYSTERIOUS LETTER 
 
 "Now that your uncle is comfortably settled, and 
 you have a good mount, may I claim your promise to 
 go riding with me sometime?" 
 
 She hung her head a moment. 
 
 "Yes, Mr. Sheldon, thank you sometime." 
 
 "May I trust you to set the time?" he asked. 
 
 "Yes, I think you may." 
 
 A few minutes later Mr. Sheldon departed, and after 
 seeing him to the carriage Mr. Farnsworth strolled out 
 through the grounds to think matters over alone. 
 
 He had told Kitty jestingly that she was irresistible, 
 and there proved to be more truth in the remark than 
 he had supposed; for how any mortal man who knew 
 her character could help loving her was beyond his 
 comprehension. He quailed at the thought, which had 
 disturbed him of late, that eventually someone might 
 discover that the girl was not his niece, and thus she 
 would be placed in a wrong light before the world. 
 
 What she had done was purely out of the goodness 
 of her heart, and he felt that she would not have been 
 swerved from her purpose even though the whole 
 world had looked askance and pointed the finger of 
 scorn at her. But what could he do? He could not 
 drive her out into the world alone, for that would be a 
 poor recompense for all she had done. And he would 
 not, even if he could. 
 
 Was it not best, after all, to encourage Mr. Sheldon s 
 suit, and console himself with the hope that she would 
 
 179
 
 CHAPTER SIXTEEN 
 
 be with him for at least a year? Sheldon would surely 
 not be so selfish as to want to steal her away at once, 
 and even if he was, she could hold him off for a year or 
 more. But what beyond that, when he finally came 
 to claim her? 
 
 "God only knows," he thought, "and I will trust 
 Him to show me some way out of it all." 
 
 Lost in thought he was unconsciously approaching 
 the front of the house when he was awakened from 
 his reveries by Kitty s voice, - 
 
 "What troubles you, uncle? You ve been pacing 
 the grounds like a caged lion for half an hour. Aren t 
 you afraid of catching cold out here without your 
 hat?" 
 
 "She s always thinking of my health and comfort," 
 he thought. 
 
 "Pardon me, Kitty, for being so thoughtless," he 
 said as he came up the front steps, "I have just been 
 having a little talk with myself, and was not aware 
 that I had been out so long." 
 
 "How inconsiderate of you to talk to yourself for a 
 whole precious half hour, when I m just dying to tell 
 you of my latest crush," she said, thinking to divert 
 his mind. 
 
 "Sheldon?" he asked. 
 
 "No ; guess again." 
 
 "Anyone I know?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 180
 
 THE MYSTERIOUS LETTER 
 
 "Then how could I guess?" 
 
 "He s a big, tall, handsome blonde, with luscious 
 blue eyes and pink complexion. He called this after 
 noon, and is coming again tomorrow." 
 
 "And if he steals my Kitty s heart," he said jok 
 ingly, "I ll play the hermit and lay for him with that 
 old musket, if it takes forty years." 
 
 "It ll be lots of fun, making love to him, for he can t 
 understand a word of English. He s our new milk 
 man, and is only a few months from Sweden. 
 
 "Has anything gone wrong at the office today, 
 uncle?" she asked. 
 
 "No, nothing. That is, nothing but a renewal of 
 the talk about going into the consolidation. The stock 
 of the mines has advanced considerably of late and the 
 directors talk favorably toward the deal. They say 
 that if it goes through they will want me to take the 
 presidency and go to the principal office, which will be 
 in New York." 
 
 "Would you go?" she asked. He finished lighting 
 his cigar and as he threw the match into the fire 
 
 "No, I don t see how I can." 
 
 "Then you would be thrown out of a position?" 
 
 "No, not as bad as that. Mr. Sheldon assured me 
 that I would be well taken care of in case I declined to 
 go to New York." 
 
 "But you would have to accept a minor position?" 
 
 "Yes, perhaps." 
 
 181
 
 CHAPTER SIXTEEN 
 
 "If the consolidation takes place would Mr. Sheldon 
 have as great influence in the affairs as he has now?" 
 
 "No ; that s the difficulty ; he would have less to say 
 about the management of the new corporation. He 
 would probably be a director, possibly the treasurer. 
 The strange part of it is, that Farnsworth & Company 
 are promoting the new combination and have guar 
 anteed to underwrite the stock." 
 
 Kitty gazed meditatively at the dying embers on the 
 hearth, and was silent for some moments. 
 
 "Uncle, how much of the stock does Mr. Sheldon 
 own?" 
 
 "His father held a controlling interest, and Mr. 
 Sheldon and his sister still hold it." 
 
 "Do you know if his sister favors the plan?" 
 
 "She is abroad and the matter is left entirely in 
 Sheldon s hands. The stock is still held by the 
 Sheldon estate, and he is the trustee." 
 
 "I believe Mr. Sheldon is very fond of you, uncle, 
 and if he really knew that this change would upset 
 you, I don t believe he would consent to it. Would it 
 make any great difference to him financially?" 
 
 "It would give him more paper value for the time 
 being, but ultimately I think he would receive no more 
 in dividends, because his mines are the best paying ones 
 among the lot. Some of the others are not paying 
 any dividends at present, and of course since dividend 
 paying stock is to be issued for all of them alike, the 
 
 182
 
 THE MYSTERIOUS LETTER 
 
 paying properties would be encumbered that much 
 more." 
 
 She walked up to him and resting her arm on his 
 shoulder, she said, "I wouldn t worry about it, uncle; 
 I m sure everything will come out all right." 
 
 She bade him good night, and as she was leaving the 
 room she stopped in the doorway and looked back as 
 he stood looking into the fire 
 
 "Remember, uncle, what I told you. I m a pretty 
 good prophet, you know." 
 
 Next morning Kitty went into town with Mr. 
 Farnsworth to do some shopping, and called up Mr. 
 Sheldon by telephone. 
 
 "I m going riding this afternoon at two o clock, and 
 if you should happen to be riding out in the vicinity of 
 the Haunted Caves at about that hour perhaps you 
 might join me at the gateway." 
 
 Promptly at two o clock Mr. Sheldon was at the 
 gate, and in a few moments he heard the clatter of a 
 horse s hoofs on the driveway. His horse pricked up 
 his ears and whinnied, and immediately there came the 
 answering call from up the road. As Kitty rounded a 
 sharp curve and came in view of the gate she saw Mr. 
 Sheldon in the saddle, while his horse pranced about 
 and pawed impatiently at the ground. When the two 
 horses met they exchanged sniffs of recognition and 
 both seemed quite contented. 
 
 "You see our horses are old friends," he said. "If 
 
 183
 
 CHAPTER SIXTEEN 
 
 you were only as glad to see me as your horse is to see 
 mine !" 
 
 "And if I were, I shouldn t let you know it," she 
 said coquettishly. 
 
 They cantered off down the road and during the two 
 hours ride she showed him two or three of what she 
 called her "topographical discoveries" along the by 
 ways, and chatted about her horseback explorations in 
 the Adirondacks. She had an insatiable curiosity, she 
 said, for hunting out and investigating every remote 
 cavern in the country. 
 
 As he was about to leave her at the gateway she said, 
 in a tone of sadness, "I shall regret to leave this dear 
 old place." 
 
 He started up quickly "Why, what do you mean? 
 I hope you re not thinking of leaving here." 
 
 "I hope not; but my uncle tells me that the head 
 offices of the Company are likely to be moved to New 
 York, and his future seems a little uncertain." 
 
 As his horse sauntered along toward home his 
 thoughts dwelt upon her last words. 
 
 " Uncertain^ eh ?" as he raised his head quickly, 
 "Well, if I was as certain of winning that girl as he is 
 certain to hold that job the only thing lacking would 
 be the arrangement of the minor details !" 
 
 He arrived at the office just as Mr. Farnsworth was 
 preparing to leave. 
 
 "Mr. Alexander, I wish you d send those New York 
 
 184
 
 THE MYSTERIOUS LETTER 
 
 people a message before you go. Tell them that a 
 majority of the stock in The Sheldon Mining Company 
 has refused to go into the combine for the time being. 
 We re doing well enough, and I guess we can go it 
 alone a while longer." 
 
 When Kitty reached home she found a note that had 
 been delivered by a messenger in the afternoon, ad 
 dressed to "Miss Kate Bellinger, The Haunted Caves." 
 The note, which was written and addressed on the 
 typewriter, was unsigned. It ran as follows : 
 
 Dear Miss Bellinger : 
 
 You are carrying on a highly improper relationship with 
 a married man. You had better take a friend s advice and 
 discontinue it at once. Exposure would mean ruination to you. 
 
 185
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 WHAT THE DEVIL HATH JOINED TOGETHER 
 
 When Mr. Farnsworth came home in the evening 
 after Kitty had returned from riding with Mr. Sheldon 
 he was in high spirits. He found Kitty in her usual 
 sunny mood. 
 
 "Kitty," he said as they sat together in the lounging 
 room after dinner, "that man Sheldon has simply lost 
 his mind over you." 
 
 "Is that so? Then it wouldn t be safe for me to lose 
 my head about him, for then we d be a pair of im 
 beciles." 
 
 "As I was leaving the office he came in and asked 
 me to wire Farnsworth & Company that the dominant 
 interests in The Sheldon Mining Company declined to 
 go in at present, and I believe it was solely on your 
 account that he refused to go into the consolidation." 
 
 "Nonsense ! you are only teasing me about him." 
 
 "Not a bit of it ; he as much as admitted it to me, in 
 saying there wasn t money enough in New York City 
 to control that mine if the change of ownership made 
 it necessary for us to leave here ; and of course MS in 
 this case means you. In talking with me outside last 
 night he asked permission to pay attention to you; 
 then today he changes his mind about the deal. 
 Strange coincidence, don t you think?" 
 
 186
 
 WHAT THE DEVIL HATH JOINED TOGETHER 
 
 "And did you give your consent to his calling on 
 me?" she asked with a coquettish glance. 
 
 "I couldn t very well object ; he s a fine young man, 
 and I know nothing whatever against him, except that 
 he unwittingly wants to rob me of about all I have in 
 the world; and I am in the helpless position of one 
 who can offer no resistance." 
 
 She got up and stood by his side, while they both 
 looked into the fireplace. 
 
 "You poor dear uncle, I m sorry to cause you 
 any worry, in addition to all your other troubles. It s 
 awfully good of you to tell me how much Mr. Sheldon 
 seems to think of me, but I really don t care for Mr. 
 Sheldon." 
 
 "That s one of the things that trouble me, Kitty; 
 I know that you are denying yourself every oppor 
 tunity of forming outside associations, and you really 
 ought not to do it. And I ought not to permit it." 
 
 "There, there, now, uncle, don t take such a 
 dismal view of things. Your comfort and happiness are 
 sufficient for my pleasure. I m still young, and will 
 have plenty of time to think of these matters later." 
 
 "Yes, that s true; but it seems selfish of me to " 
 
 "Come, now," she interrupted, as she got up and 
 took down a book from the nearby book case, 
 
 "I have a new book for you to read. Let s divert 
 our minds from our own troubles and be like other 
 folks take up the consideration of other people s 
 
 187
 
 CHAPTER SEVENTEEN 
 
 affairs. This story has an attractive title;" she said 
 handing him the volume; "suppose we take turns 
 reading it aloud." 
 
 Mr. Farnsworth took the book and read aloud for 
 awhile. Then Kitty interrupted him, 
 
 "Now let me read, uncle ; your voice is beginning to 
 grow husky." 
 
 She read for some minutes, when suddenly she 
 stopped. "There s that word furtive again ! I do wish 
 someone would write a book and leave out all the 
 furtive glances!" 
 
 "And they might also omit some of the over- worked 
 propinquities" said Mr. Farnsworth. Another thing I 
 have often wondered, is why so many authors feel it 
 encumbent upon themselves to tell the reader so much 
 about how the soft spring breezes wafted gently across 
 the meadows and kissed the bursting buds of the wild 
 flowers, or how the slanting rays of the setting sun 
 cast a sheen across some hilltop, while the lengthening 
 shadows in the valley below proclaimed the knell of 
 another parting day. " 
 
 "Ha ha, uncle, you should have been a poet." 
 
 "Yes, that sort of flowery speech does very well for 
 poetry, but in reading prose romance it s vexatious to 
 be held up at the beginning of every chapter while the 
 author dilates upon extraneous matters just to fill out 
 the required number of pages to bring it to the conven 
 tional sized volume." 
 
 188
 
 WHAT THE DEVIL HATH JOINED TOGETHER 
 
 "I suppose," said Kitty, "that the writers figure that 
 the reader has about so much leisure time to kill, and 
 they want to give him plenty of weapons to kill it 
 with." 
 
 "Yes, but if you were going across the continent, 
 even on a pleasure trip, you wouldn t want to be side 
 tracked at every station and be compelled to leave the 
 train and follow the conductor butterfly-chasing across 
 the country." 
 
 "They say every man is capable of writing at least 
 one book why don t you write one, uncle? Oh, 
 let s write one together. We ll make it short and to 
 the point I know it would be a great success." 
 
 "No, Kitty, I fear that our ideas would be altogether 
 too far in advance of established precedent to meet 
 with success. People don t take readily to innovations, 
 and we might preach ourselves blue in the face with 
 out getting an audience. Reformers, like poets, rarely 
 live to enjoy the rewards of their labors. And besides, 
 I wouldn t know what to write about." 
 
 "Why, write about yourself your own experiences 
 would be just full of human interest. Tell how you 
 loved and lost ; then how in later years you " she 
 halted. "It would be a hint to some of the wives who 
 hold their husbands by such loose strings." 
 
 "But the trouble is, Kitty, people are not looking so 
 much for facts or pointed morals in current literature 
 as they are for a sprightly yarn. If a man past middle 
 
 189
 
 CHAPTER SEVENTEEN 
 
 age falls in love a second time, the world calls him a 
 silly old fool and says he ought to know better. They 
 have no sympathy with failure, and no compassion 
 for the disappointed individual who might have done 
 what he did not do. 
 
 "In writing a book I should probably drift off into a 
 one-sided discussion of the divorce question, and my 
 views on that subject would arouse the antagonism of 
 some of the church people. I used to feel as many do, 
 that the divorce laws are too lax ; but in the light of my 
 bitter experience, I have changed my views, after giv 
 ing the matter a great deal of serious thought." 
 
 "And what are your views, uncle?" 
 
 "Well, in the first place, you wouldn t think of enter 
 ing into a business contract involving even a few 
 dollars, without weighing the considerations carefully, 
 and perhaps hiring a lawyer to draw up the agreement, 
 would you?" 
 
 "No," she said. 
 
 "Yet two people will rush blindly into a marriage 
 contract involving the happiness of a lifetime, with no 
 apparent thought of what the results are likely to be. 
 After they are united, both are apt to take the view, 
 I ve got you now, and you can t get away even if you 
 want to. The love, honor, and obey part of the 
 bargain is mutually regarded as an archaic and in 
 operative formality which either one may disregard at 
 will. Although these three injunctions are made 
 
 190
 
 WHAT THE DEVIL HATH JOINED TOGETHER 
 
 specific conditions of the marriage pact, either party 
 may break all of them and yet hold the other to his or 
 her part of the agreement. 
 
 "A civil contract, perhaps you know, may be nullified 
 by showing a lack of consideration, or to use a com 
 mercial term, value received; but a marital contract, 
 though solemnized only by a justice of the peace, is 
 forthwith presumed to be sealed with the approval of 
 the Omnipotent God. Then according to the Church s 
 decree, either party may disregard all of the ante 
 nuptial agreements, and the only alternative left to 
 the other side is to use forbearance, or retaliate with 
 vindictiveness. The enforced operation of such a law 
 defeats its own purposes, for it actually provokes 
 immorality among married people." 
 
 "What an obnoxious rule!" exclaimed Kitty. 
 
 "Yes. When a woman marries a man," he con 
 tinued, "she becomes legally possessed of about one- 
 third or one-half of his property, and all of his affec 
 tions; and in exchange for this she can give as much 
 or as little as she pleases. If she arrives at the con 
 clusion that she is too pretty, or too witty, to tie herself 
 down to the humdrum of domestic life, her husband 
 may occupy his time in working and sleeping, and 
 enjoy the blissful consolation of knowing that he has a 
 half interest in all he makes above expenses. 
 
 "I may appear to be speaking chiefly from the man s 
 side of the question; but I am not unmindful of the 
 
 191
 
 CHAPTER SEVENTEEN 
 
 fact that the same argument would apply with equal 
 force to the other side. A woman, however, is by 
 natural instinct cleverer than a man in dealing with 
 the forces which make for domestic happiness. It is 
 natural that she should be so, for she has more time 
 and aptitude for studying them." 
 
 "Uncle, you don t take a very cheerful view of 
 matrimony. Do you mean to tell me that any woman 
 could be so dishonorable?" 
 
 "Yes, such cases are quite common. And men have 
 done even much worse. In addition to neglecting their 
 duties they are often utterly selfish, and even abusive. 
 Sometimes it s the fault of one, and sometimes both 
 are to blame." 
 
 "Gracious !" exclaimed Kitty "this marriage busi 
 ness seems to be a lottery with a lot of blank tickets 
 in it. You pay the price, and then take your chances." 
 
 "That s true, Kitty, and every one who takes a 
 ticket thinks he s going to get the capital prize." 
 
 They were silent for some moments, and in thinking 
 over what he had said Kitty felt the force of the tragedy 
 that lay behind his words. Finally she asked, 
 
 "But is there no way of schooling young people and 
 showing them how to avoid some of the pitfalls of 
 married life? Take your own case for instance, 
 couldn t it be used to serve as an object lesson to 
 others?" 
 
 "No, Kitty, literature and everyday life are filled 
 
 192
 
 WHAT THE DEVIL HATH JOINED TOGETHER 
 
 with striking examples, but nobody profits by them. 
 If millions of people all over the world continue to 
 speculate in stocks and commodities on narrow margins 
 regardless of the fact that they all lose sooner or later, 
 why shouldn t they speculate in marriage, when there 
 is perhaps one chance in five of making a lucky strike? 
 Another thing, marriage is oftentimes the outgrowth 
 of love, either mutual or one-sided and everyone 
 is attacked sooner or later by that malady in one form 
 or another." 
 
 "Oftentimes? did you say, uncle? Don t you mean 
 always?" 
 
 "No; there s a vast difference between love and 
 infatuation." 
 
 "But," inquired Kitty, "why does the church make 
 codes governing the marriage relationship? It doesn t 
 interfere with the filial duties of father and daughter, 
 or the relationship of brother and sister, does it?" 
 
 "I presume," he replied, "that they base their 
 authority on the Biblical passage, What therefore 
 God hath joined together, let not man put asunder. 
 But it doesn t say, what the devil hath joined together 
 shall not be put asunder. In all my thirty years or 
 more of church-going I have never heard any convinc 
 ing proof that the all-wise God ever had anything to do 
 with joining two incompatible persons together. Such 
 a procedure would be contrary to the accepted idea of 
 His goodness; it is contrary to religious ethics, The 
 
 193
 
 CHAPTER SEVENTEEN 
 
 mere fact that the minister or justice of the peace pro 
 nounces the formula does not make it conclusive that 
 God sanctions it. No infelicitous state of matrimony 
 can be holy. Such a union profanes the definition of 
 the word ; it is blasphemous to call it holy." 
 
 "Then the church takes it for granted that all mar 
 riages are hallowed?" she asked. 
 
 "Yes; and the presumption is no more supportable 
 than it would be to assume that every other civil agree 
 ment between individuals is hallowed. People often 
 drive sharp bargains in marriage the same as in busi 
 ness. Social ambitions and pecuniary avarice are 
 frequently the chief impelling motives. 
 
 "Viewing the marriage vows from the standpoint of 
 common sense, they are merely a civil compact, which, 
 like any other agreement between mortal beings may 
 be blessed by the Lord with happy results, or sanctioned 
 by the devil with an infelicitous outcome, according to 
 the motives and subsequent acts of the participants." 
 
 Kitty rose from the rug. "This marriage business 
 seems to be easier to get into than it is to get out of. 
 
 "Now promise me, uncle, that you won t get the 
 blues again," she said a little later as she bade him 
 good night. 
 
 "No one could be blue for very long if you were 
 about," he said cheerfully. 
 
 "What a dear man he is! How any woman with 
 an ounce of warm blood in her veins could help adoring 
 
 194
 
 WHAT THE DEVIL HATH JOINED TOGETHER 
 
 him is beyond me," she thought as she ascended the 
 stairs. 
 
 When Kitty went to her room that night she did not 
 go immediately to bed. She closed the door and 
 vented her pent-up emotions in a good long cry. When 
 she got up and viewed her swollen eyes and lips in the 
 mirror, her anger dried her tears. She had thought of 
 that letter all through the evening, and several times 
 she had difficulty in stifling her feelings. Who could 
 have sent it? She had met several people in the 
 town, mostly church-goers at the little church where 
 they attended services several times, and the pastor 
 had called once since they moved. All those she knew 
 seemed cordial, and nobody appeared to question the 
 propriety of her home life. Yet that anonymous letter 
 was delivered by messenger, and evidently someone in 
 the town knew the conditions under which she was 
 living. Furthermore, it must be an interested person. 
 
 "Could it be Mr. Sheldon?" she queried. "No," she 
 reasoned, it could not have come from him, for he 
 had been particularly kind and attentive that very 
 afternoon. 
 
 She finally concluded that the young man she had 
 frightened out of town must have returned. If so, of 
 course Mr. Farnsworth s family would soon know. 
 "Then what?" she asked herself. 
 
 However, she had committed no wrong and was 
 afraid of no one not even his wife and son. Indeed, 
 
 195
 
 CHAPTER SEVENTEEN 
 
 she rather hoped that Mrs. Farnsworth would come 
 out, just to see what would happen, and have things 
 over with. The state of uncertainty was no less dis 
 quieting than the thought of facing the wife herself. 
 She felt sorry for Mr. Farnsworth, but felt sure that 
 there would be no mincing of words on his part. She 
 was willing to take the chances of exposure and un 
 favorable comment in the East, for there was no one 
 there that she cared particularly for. Mr. Farnsworth s 
 position was secure, for Mr. Sheldon had been taken 
 into confidence about his home affairs; and if it be 
 came necessary they could easily explain how she 
 came to be passed off as his niece. Mr. Sheldon could 
 not doubt them. She felt absolutely secure in her 
 position, for it was one of upright motives. 
 
 Before retiring she took out the letter again and 
 scrutinized it long and carefully. Then she held a 
 lighted match and the paper together out at arm s 
 length until the flames consumed the letter down so 
 close to her fingers that she was obliged to drop it into 
 the grate. 
 
 "There!" she said, "that s the last of you you 
 vile implement of Satan! I wish I knew what busy 
 body sent you here !" 
 
 And turning out the light she was soon fast asleep. 
 
 Early next morning Mr. Farnsworth was aroused by 
 the housekeeper who reported that the old hermit had 
 had a very bad turn in the night and now wished to see 
 
 196
 
 WHAT THE DEVIL HATH JOINED TOGETHER 
 
 him. Dressing hurriedly he went to the hermit s room, 
 where he found the old man breathing laboriously. A 
 doctor had already been summoned, and the patient 
 managed to stammer out that he wanted a lawyer ; so 
 one was immediately sent for. When he arrived the 
 doctor and Kitty were both in the room. By signs 
 and words the sick man conveyed the information that 
 something was buried under a rock in the cave. 
 Pointing to Kitty he said, "All to her. House to her 
 all to her. My angel!" Then he closed his eyes. 
 
 The lawyer drew up a will, bequeathing all the 
 property, both real and personal, to Kitty, and the 
 doctor revived the patient by a hypodermic injection 
 while the will was read to him. He nodded his head; 
 and the doctor supported his arm while he scrawled his 
 name to the paper. Mr. Farnsworth came into the 
 room as he was signing the document, and as the 
 old man finished he dropped the pen, looked up at him 
 and smiled faintly. Then turning his face toward 
 Kitty, who was kneeling at the bedside with her face 
 buried in the covers, he mustered his strength and 
 rested his hand on her head. "My angel God 
 bless you!" which were his last words. 
 
 In the farthest cave they found a loose flat stone 
 under the little bed, and in a hole underneath was a 
 package containing about eleven thousand dollars, 
 mostly in ten and twenty-dollar bills. 
 
 197
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 THE FRUITS OF INFELICITY 
 
 When Mr. Farnsworth reached his office he found 
 an anonymous typewritten letter, addressed to him 
 under his assumed name, saying that a man of his age 
 ought to be ashamed of himself "for acting so dis 
 gracefully with a young girl and preventing her from 
 ever entering society or making a future for herself. 
 You are perpetrating a wicked crime," it went on to 
 say; "and when she comes to her senses she will curse 
 you!" 
 
 This invidious accusation seemed like a malicious 
 stab from out of the dark, and he was greatly puzzled 
 by it. "Just as I feared," he mused. "I ve been 
 afraid all along that happiness was coming too fast, 
 and that something was going to happen." 
 
 His first impulse was to say nothing about it in a 
 direct way to Kitty, for it would doubtless make her 
 miserable; but the more he thought over it the more 
 he was convinced that she ought to be made fully 
 acquainted with the peril that threatened her good 
 name, and he finally decided to lay the letter before 
 her. He sent for a carriage and went directly home. 
 Handing the note to Kitty, he watched her while she 
 read it. To his complete amazement, she looked up 
 smilingly. 
 
 198
 
 THE FRUITS OF INFELICITY 
 
 "I, too, received one of these, but didn t think it of 
 enough importance to bother you with it. Whoever 
 it is," she continued, "they seem to be afraid to un 
 cover their identity. It is the act of a coward, and I 
 am not afraid of cowards." 
 
 Nevertheless the matter weighed heavily upon Mr. 
 Farnsworth s mind and caused him many wakeful 
 nights. He could think of no human being whose 
 feelings or fortune he had wantonly injured, and the 
 author of these letters was a complete mystery. Some 
 Evil Genius appeared to be persecuting him. He 
 ruminated back over the past years. In the marriage 
 lottery he had drawn an incompatible mate; then his 
 years of disappointing home life culminated in his 
 financial reverses just before the tide of panic began 
 to recede. All things, both then and now, seemed to 
 work harmoniously together for his undoing. 
 
 In these reflections he was again reminded that al 
 though he had a legal wife, he appeared to be neither 
 married nor single. The memory of his wife had be 
 come repulsive to him ; the remembrance of her 
 beauty a mockery. 
 
 "Yet," he soliloquised, "people are more to be pitied 
 than blamed for hereditary incapacity. How often it 
 happens that persons suddenly raised from their heredi 
 tary environments are made restless in an atmosphere 
 to which they are unaccustomed by birth or associa 
 tion ! In their eagerness to attain greater heights and 
 
 199
 
 CHAPTER EIGHTEEN 
 
 conquer new worlds they often lose sight of their in 
 herent deficiencies. Their minds are so occupied with 
 growing aspirations that they become oblivious to the 
 little thoughts and acts that enter so largely into the 
 makeup of a contented life." 
 
 Ever since the birth of his son the shy goddess of 
 happiness seemed to dance tantalizingly about him, 
 always just out of his reach. She had tormented him 
 at first with a taste of connubial bliss, enough to 
 stimulate his appetite for more, then the cup of 
 happiness had been snatched away. It would have 
 been far better had he never sipped its contents. 
 
 "For certain persons this love delirium may be a 
 thrilling experience ; but for me it has been a poison 
 ous drug. Every minute of sweetness I ve found in it 
 has been penalized by hours of bitterness, and it would 
 seem sheer madness for me now to anticipate anything 
 else," he mused. 
 
 But what was to be done? What could be done? 
 That present arrangements must be terminated was a 
 foregone conclusion; for already they were being 
 harrassed by these threatening letters, and exposure 
 would mean ruin for Kitty; and, what was of much 
 less consequence, perhaps the loss of his position. 
 
 "Ah, it was a fatal error I made in giving way to a 
 brainless impulse and cutting myself off from home 
 and friends, and any possibility of future success or 
 happiness. False pride! foolish vanity! This selfish 
 
 200
 
 THE FRUITS OF INFELICITY 
 
 suicidal weakness in letting the heart impulses run 
 away with the head, and imagining that we are brought 
 into existence for no other purpose than to pamper our 
 own appetites for domestic bliss, instead of paying more 
 attention to the duties we owe to others in life ! 
 
 "Reared in luxury, with every advantage, what 
 little good I have accomplished has cost me no effort 
 or privation ; and when put to the initial test of moral 
 strength and character I quailed and ran away like a 
 cowardly soldier before the enemy, instead of meeting 
 the obstacles like a man ! And for nothing else than to 
 be rid of a vain-glorious, aspiring woman, whose very 
 weakness should have taught me a lesson in fortitude 
 and determination. But instead of profiting by the ex 
 ample I topple over like a dead reed in a spring breeze. 
 
 "How easily I might have rehabilitated myself and 
 rounded out a life of usefulness, instead of slinking 
 away and spending my best days in morbid meditation 
 over an ill-starred marriage ! A wanton and shameful 
 waste of opportunities! This singleness of purpose in 
 hunting for hymeneal joy is a narrow-gauge existence 
 unbefitting a man of sound judgment. There are 
 other higher and nobler motives in life that demand a 
 good share of one s attention. Instead of completing 
 a brilliant career, filled with deeds of human kindness, 
 and dying respected and lamented by all, it falls to my 
 unhappy lot to cut short a life of promise, and perhaps 
 in the end fill a dishonored grave !" 
 
 201
 
 CHAPTER EIGHTEEN 
 
 He ultimately decided that the only course was to 
 give up the residence in the country and take rooms at 
 the hotel. Kitty now seemed more responsive to 
 Sheldon s attentions, which had become more marked 
 of late. He had dined with them frequently, and she 
 often spent the afternoon riding horseback with him. 
 The question was how to explain to him the change in 
 the domestic arrangements. 
 
 While thinking the matter over in his office one 
 afternoon he received a personal letter, and on glanc 
 ing at the superscription he almost started from his 
 chair. It was unmistakably his wife s handwriting! 
 and the envelope was postmarked New York. The 
 note, which contained no complimentary address, 
 read, 
 
 I have discovered all ; but I am willing to take you back if 
 you will give up that woman. Am coming to see you will 
 leave here tomorrow. 
 
 He turned immediately to his desk and wrote a 
 telegram to Tom. 
 
 202
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 MRS. FARNSWORTH S HUMILIATION 
 
 As Mr. Farnsworth sat smoking in his office after 
 luncheon the next afternoon, his private secretary 
 announced a lady caller from New York. "She re 
 fused to give her name, but said you were expecting 
 her. She s heavily veiled, and I couldn t see her 
 features." 
 
 "Show her in." 
 
 "Willing to take me back, is she?" he mused as he 
 re-read his wife s note while he stood waiting for her 
 to appear. The door opened and his wife stood before 
 him. 
 
 "What brings you away out here, Margaret?" he 
 asked, after greeting her in a formal manner. He 
 offered her a chair and sat down facing her. Without 
 answering, she removed her veil and stared into his 
 calm, expressionless face. 
 
 "Oh, Dalney, I m so miserable and lonely," she 
 said plaintively, and bowing her head she pressed her 
 handkerchief to her eyes. 
 
 "Up to her old tricks again!" he thought to himself. 
 
 "Since you went away I have no friends nobody 
 ever comes to see me and since that awful lie ap 
 peared in the papers all your friends just hate me, and 
 say the most awful things about me. I can t endure 
 
 203
 
 CHAPTER NINETEEN 
 
 it, Dalney, I can t I just can t " she cried pite- 
 ously. "If you would only come back and disprove 
 these false reports! Then people would see how 
 wrongly I ve been accused. Oh, Dalney, Dalney, it s 
 awful!" she sobbed. "Every time I go out onto the 
 street I feel that everyone is staring at me and accusing 
 me of killing my husband. This has haunted me until 
 I almost feel that I am guilty." 
 
 She looked up at him through her tears. "Please - 
 oh, please don t sit there and look at me that way 
 you used to love me and pet me when I was unhappy, 
 and I did so love to have you kiss away my tears 
 and now you just sit and stare at me cold and 
 unsympathetic !" 
 
 He was so busy with his own thoughts, wondering at 
 her marvelous acting and trying to think what he 
 should say, that he scarcely heard her words, uttered 
 amid sobs and wailing. At length she bent over onto 
 the large flat-top desk at her side, and burying her face 
 she moaned, 
 
 "Oh, oh, even he suspects me! and now he has 
 ceased entirely to love me !" 
 
 She could not have planned an aspect that would 
 have proved less appealing to his sympathies, for her 
 position instantly recalled to his mind that awful night 
 of agony when he had buried his face in his folded 
 arms on the library table. It was the scene that im 
 pelled him to make the fatal mistake of his life, and 
 
 204
 
 MRS. FARNSWORTH S HUMILIATION 
 
 every detail of it was seared into his memory. The 
 remembrance of her contemptuous, unfeeling gaze 
 when he raised his head and looked appealingly at her 
 across the table now embittered him and chilled his 
 blood. He remembered, too, how time and again she 
 had played upon his sympathy in previous years; and 
 from her manner and words he was convinced that her 
 present emotions were due to wounded pride rather 
 than to any real change of heart. He felt toward her 
 as he might feel toward some mischievous child crying 
 over an accidentally self-inflicted punishment. 
 
 The last spark of his once unconquerable love for her 
 had been utterly stifled and killed, and what pity he 
 felt was unattended by the remotest desire to touch her 
 or go near her. Her beauty and her ever-ready foun 
 tain of tears had lost their power to move him. 
 
 "Margaret," he said gently, "this is no time or place 
 for tears and theatricals. I gave you your choice of 
 two alternatives, and if you are dissatisfied with the 
 one you chose, it is now too late to turn back. When 
 I told you I would give you cause for divorce I couldn t 
 foresee my present conditions, but I kept my promise, 
 even if with unexpected results." 
 
 She straightened up quickly in her chair and looked 
 at him, astounded at the ineffectualness of her well- 
 planned scene. Seeing that her artifice had failed 
 completely, she quickly changed her attitude. 
 
 "Then you admit that you are living here with that 
 
 205
 
 CHAPTER NINETEEN 
 
 woman! You had this all nicely planned out in ad 
 vance ! I see it now. That s why you tried to trap me 
 into getting a divorce !" 
 
 "I neither admit nor deny anything, except that you 
 have ample cause for divorce. Put it on the grounds 
 of desertion, if you like. 
 
 "You can never be happy in New York outside of 
 your social caste and I suggest that you go abroad 
 for a year ; then return and get your divorce privately 
 before some properly constituted referee, so as to give 
 yourself no undue notoriety that would lessen your 
 chances of marrying again. Let the hearing be private 
 and be careful that you make no false accusations 
 against an innocent girl. It might react on you," he 
 said, with a look that was more threatening than his 
 words. 
 
 "Innocent girl !" she exclaimed, her eyes now ablaze 
 with indignation. "How can you be so brazen as to 
 sit there and defend that adventuress? I ve had de 
 tectives watching you both, and I ve known of you* 
 actions for weeks. You thought yourself very clever, 
 but " 
 
 He sprang to his feet and interrupted her speech. 
 
 "My God I then it was you that invented those 
 damnable, cowardly anonymous missives, was it? 
 You scorned me and drove me away from home and 
 friends distracted, mad with your haughty airs of 
 self-sufficiency ; and not content with that, you perse- 
 
 206
 
 MRS. FARNSWORTH S HUMILIATION 
 
 cute me with detectives and anonymous letters, just 
 when I am extricating myself from the jaws of an 
 earthly hell, and trying to live down the memories of a 
 horrible eighteen-year dream." 
 
 "Yes," she snapped, "and I can tell you your dream 
 isn t over yet. I ll go back and close up that banking 
 business, and expose you and that woman, both here 
 and in New York. I ll show your friends what you 
 are " 
 
 "Wait! wait! Not so loud, nor so fast. You will 
 do nothing of the kind. By what authority, may I ask, 
 do you propose to adopt such drastic measures with 
 my business affairs?" 
 
 "Authority! your business! The business belongs 
 to me. My money saved it, and I have a lot of funds 
 invested in it now. I shall do as I please with it." 
 
 Appalled at her audacity and revengefulness, he sat 
 for some moments looking at her in silence. He re 
 membered having recently faced imminent death with 
 scarcely a tremor; but the thought of her wantonly 
 blighting the life of this young and innocent girl 
 who had done so much for him stirred him into a 
 mental frenzy. "This woman is dangerous; she 
 must be silenced at any cost," he said to himself in 
 sheer desperation. 
 
 There was but one way to quell her, and though 
 under ordinary circumstances his conscience would 
 have rebelled at the thought of resorting to such a 
 
 207
 
 CHAPTER NINETEEN 
 
 means, here was an unbridled terror that would yield 
 only to the most violent treatment. 
 
 "Margaret," he said sternly, "if you attempt to in 
 terfere with that business, further than to draw out 
 what you actually put into it, I shall return to New 
 York and take full charge of it myself; and in that 
 case, you can t collect a dollar that you have invested 
 in it. While I am alive, I am the lawful head and 
 owner of that business, and a woman cannot sue her 
 husband for " 
 
 "Oh, I see," she interrupted spitefully; "then you 
 intended to cheat me out of what you asked me to lend 
 you!" 
 
 "I had no such intentions; nor do I intend now to 
 let you cheat me or ruin an innocent girl, as you pro 
 pose to do," he said hotly. "And be careful how you 
 use your threats of exposure. You might stir up 
 something that will recoil on you," he said as he 
 thrust out his arm and pointed his finger warningly at 
 her. 
 
 "You are at this moment almost within earshot of 
 the scene of your father s double crime, and one of the 
 victims of his robbery has until recently been living 
 here under the same roof with me, helpless and de 
 mented in his old age from a murderous blow your 
 father struck him on the head." 
 
 Her face blanched and she shrank back, horror 
 stricken. "He s found it out ! And my father was also 
 
 208
 
 MRS. FARffSWORTH S HUMILIATION 
 
 a robber! that money was perhaps stolen, and I ll 
 have to give it all back!" flashed across her mind. 
 
 Observing the instant effect of his counter-threat, 
 he continued, 
 
 "The banking business I intend shall go to Tom; 
 and in the settlement, when you get your divorce, you 
 will take your own money back, and only as much 
 more as the law allows you under such an arrange 
 ment no more. Remember that. And also bear 
 this in mind: the less advertising the better for you. 
 Don t let your tender solicitude for me trouble you any. 
 Think only of yourself, as you ve always done. I m 
 well provided for here in every way. It may comfort 
 you to know that, for the first time in years, I m 
 threatened even with happiness." 
 
 She fairly gnashed her teeth under this sarcastic 
 parry; yet she was disarmed, absolutely helpless. 
 
 Any thought of retaliation on her part was completely 
 forestalled by his knowledge of her father s inquities 
 and her fear of having to return the money. These 
 considerations seemed to rise up like a great barrier 
 before her vision, and she shuddered at the thought of 
 being so near the scene of his awful crime. She felt 
 an irresistible impulse to flee from town by the next 
 train, fearing they might even arrest her; and she 
 wished she might never see or hear of the place again. 
 Her only alternative appeared to be to accept the 
 inevitable, to get a divorce as quietly as possible. 
 
 209
 
 CHAPTER NINETEEN 
 
 She was so unstrung that when she attempted to rise to 
 her feet she sank back into her chair. 
 
 "Before we finally part, let me assure you, Margaret," 
 he said more kindly, "that you labor under a wrong 
 impression of the girl. She is entirely guiltless. She 
 was employed by Tom to look for me, and had she 
 found me ten minutes later than she did you would 
 never have seen me alive. She has never wronged 
 you by word or act. After reading that newspaper 
 story about you, and considering the corroborative 
 circumstances I believed every word of it. It was she 
 who brought me the assurance that it was groundless, 
 and pleaded with me to go back to you. But we are 
 clearly unsuited to each other, and it is better that we 
 separate and seek happiness apart. You are still 
 young and beautiful; there may yet be much in store 
 for you." 
 
 "No, I shall never be happy again," she said mourn 
 fully. 
 
 "Later you will think differently. No man could be 
 indifferent to your charms, and any foreign nobleman 
 might well be proud of your bearing." 
 
 A new light came into her eyes, and she looked up 
 smilingly. 
 
 "Do you really think so?" 
 
 "I am positive of it." 
 
 "Then I m not faded or less attractive than I used 
 to be?" 
 
 210
 
 MRS. FARNSWORTH S HUMILIATION 
 
 "Not a bit," he said truthfully. "You look almost 
 as young and attractive as you did the day you gradu 
 ated from Miss Hilton s, when I thought you the most 
 charming creature in the world." 
 
 The reference to her girlhood days suddenly brought 
 to mind what Tom had told her about her father. She 
 became agitated, and looked at her watch. He 
 rightly construed this as indicating her anxiety to be 
 off and immediately rang for his secretary. 
 
 "Order a carriage for this lady; she will take the 
 four o clock train for the East." Then consulting his 
 watch, he turned to her 
 
 "Good-by, Margaret; your train goes in twenty 
 minutes." 
 
 211
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 THINGS LOOK SUSPICIOUS TO TOM 
 
 Two days later Tom opened the private office door 
 and rushed into his father s arms. 
 
 "Father ! Father ! Is it really you?" 
 
 "Yes, my boy," he said in a choking voice, as he 
 patted Tom on the back. 
 
 When they were seated Tom asked, "Father, why 
 didn t you send me word that you were alive and 
 well?" 
 
 "Because, Tom, I didn t wish your mother to know 
 of my whereabouts, and while I wanted very much to 
 relieve your own anxiety, yet I did not wish to burden 
 you with the charge of keeping such a secret from 
 your mother while you were under the same roof with 
 her. But when I found she had discovered me I wired 
 you at once to come." 
 
 "Discovered you! When and how did she discover 
 you?" 
 
 He related briefly the interview with Mrs. Farns- 
 worth, and told the story of his previous struggles, but 
 said nothing of his suicidal intent, further than to say 
 that he was at his last extremity when Kitty found him. 
 
 Tom stared at him aghast. 
 
 "And Kitty where is she?" he inquired at length. 
 
 "She is with me at home." 
 
 212
 
 THINGS LOOK SUSPICIOUS TO TOM 
 
 "How is her mind?" 
 
 They both laughed. He explained how Kitty came 
 to nickname him uncle, and he had since passed as her 
 uncle in fact. He also explained that although he had 
 never uttered a word against the consolidation, Mr. 
 Sheldon had declined to go in on Kitty s account, for 
 he feared it would necessitate her moving away. 
 
 Mr. Farnsworth despatched a messenger with a note 
 to Kitty asking her to have the coachman come in at 
 two o clock; as he was going to bring out a young 
 man who would remain over night. 
 
 Kitty was startled almost out of her senses when she 
 was unexpectedly brought face to face with Tom, but 
 she quickly recovered her composure and greeted him 
 with reserved cordiality. Remembering Sid s experi 
 ence, he almost burst out laughing the instant he faced 
 her; and when he remarked that he was pleased to 
 note that she had fully recovered her mental equilib 
 rium, they both laughed heartily. 
 
 "Tom," said Mr. Farnsworth later, as the three 
 walked in to dinner, "we are now the guests of an 
 heiress," waving his hand toward Kitty "Miss 
 Bellinger. This house and premises belong to her, 
 and she could turn us out into the road tonight if she 
 chose. She recently inherited this entire estate, with 
 eleven thousand dollars in cash, from an old hermit 
 who became much attached to her." 
 
 "Sh - sh - h, you shouldn t speak so irreverently 
 
 213
 
 CHAPTER TWENTY 
 
 when the poor old man is scarcely cold in his grave," 
 she said. 
 
 "Pardon me, Kitty; I meant no disrespect, I assure 
 you." 
 
 Then addressing Tom, he continued, "By the 
 most singular coincidence, the old gentleman who 
 owned this place was formerly a partner of your grand 
 father Benson in the mining business." 
 
 At the mention of the name a scowl came over Tom s 
 face, "In that case I m surprised that he had this 
 place and eleven thousand dollars left to give away." 
 
 The father went on to relate the circumstances 
 which brought them into occupancy of the Haunted 
 Caves, wondering the while what Tom knew that 
 would cause his remark. 
 
 "I should think," said Tom, "that the name of the 
 place would insure you against intrusion of either 
 friends or foes." 
 
 "But you d be surprised," said his father, "to know 
 how quickly Miss Bellinger charmed all the ghosts 
 away. Although the place has been infested with 
 them for upwards of twenty years, we haven t seen one 
 since she came here." 
 
 Glancing at Tom she said, "Perhaps you are already 
 aware that your father is not always to be taken seri 
 ously in what he says." 
 
 Late that night when Tom had retired to his room, 
 he sat for some time in a brown study. 
 
 214
 
 THINGS LOOK SUSPICIOUS TO TOM 
 
 "Well what d you think of that?" he mused; "Dad 
 is supposed to be dead, and here he is out here having 
 the time of his life living like a prince in clover 
 clear up to his ears. He s a long ways from being a 
 dead one. I ll bet he s had more fun in the past few 
 weeks than he had in the whole of the past nineteen 
 years. 
 
 "But that girl! How she did fool Sid! She s a 
 smooth one all right. I d never have thought it of 
 her ! Mother wasn t so far wrong after all. I wonder 
 what she thinks now ! 
 
 "Well, it s all right, I guess. I don t blame him a 
 particle I d do the same thing if a woman ever gave 
 me the frost he got at home. He ought to write a 
 story now. Wouldn t it be a corker, though! He 
 could tell a tale that would bring some of those society 
 people to their feet. I ll bet there d be a lot of married 
 men committing suicide in less n a week if they thought 
 they could fall into a nest like this." 
 
 Next morning Tom drove to town with his father, 
 but remained only a short time and rode back with the 
 coachman. When he arrived at the house he found 
 Kitty out in the yard with the gardener overseeing the 
 work of caring for the shrubbery. As he approached 
 her she appeared shy and not much inclined to talk. 
 Finally, after moving away from the gardener she man 
 aged to say, "Mr. Farnsworth, I don t know what you 
 think you must have formed a poor opinion of me." 
 
 215
 
 CHAPTER TWENTY 
 
 He blushed and stammered like a schoolboy, and 
 tried to say something, but his tongue seemed tied and 
 he was at a loss to know how to answer her. "I don t 
 blame either of you," he managed to say at length. 
 
 She stood behind a bush heedlessly plucking the 
 leaves and tearing them into little bits. "I really 
 wouldn t have done it for anyone else in all the world;" 
 she said "he was so good to me. But really he needed 
 the money, or I shouldn t have drawn it. I m so glad 
 now that I am able to pay it back." 
 
 Tom looked up in surprise. "Oh, the money, - 
 please don t ever mention that again. I wish it had 
 been fifty times as much. Besides, it belonged to him 
 anyway." 
 
 "I m glad you feel that way about it, for I ve felt 
 terribly guilty ever since I took it. You must have 
 thought me very ungrateful; but now that you know 
 all, you see why I did it." 
 
 "Yes," said Tom, "but I never felt that way about it. 
 I suspected all along that you had found father. It 
 was not the money that concerned me, it was your 
 welfare, and his." 
 
 Tom edged around nearer to where she stood. 
 
 "You seem to exert a great influence over Mr. Shel 
 don," he said. She flushed instantly and looked down. 
 
 "Mr. Sheldon has been very kind to us," she said 
 slowly, but she avoided saying anything further about 
 him, and adroitly changed the subject. 
 
 216
 
 THINGS LOOK SUSPICIOUS TO TOM 
 
 "She s as deep as a well," he thought. 
 
 For a time Tom felt a little ill at ease with her, but 
 his embarrassment soon wore off as their conversation 
 turned to riding, driving, theatres and other congenial 
 pastimes. At luncheon while discussing the latest 
 plays she asked if he had ever heard of an actress by 
 the name of Belle Villaire. No, the name was not 
 familiar to him. 
 
 "Someone you know?" he asked. 
 
 "Yes, my half sister my mother s daughter by 
 her first husband, who died a couple of years after she 
 married him." 
 
 "Then you have relatives living?" he said. 
 
 "She is the only near relation I know of. I never 
 saw my sister but twice that I recall, after I was five 
 years old. When she was seventeen she left boarding 
 school and went on the stage. Mother was much 
 opposed to it, and they had a falling out. My sister 
 afterward went abroad and I believe she appeared in 
 some minor part on the London stage. Later she 
 made quite a success and returned to this country for 
 a short time, but she would never play in New York on 
 mother s account. My mother had a strong prejudice 
 against the stage, and she never quite forgave my 
 sister for her choice of that calling." 
 
 "Then you have no idea where your sister is?" he 
 asked. 
 
 "No, I have neither seen nor heard of her for several 
 
 217
 
 CHAPTER TWENTY 
 
 years. The last we knew of her she was married to a 
 Frenchman, and living somewhere in Italy." 
 
 "Does she look like you?" 
 
 "I couldn t say; but I should think not, because I 
 remember the papers often spoke of her as a famous 
 beauty." 
 
 "You are very modest," he remarked. "This 
 appears to clear up a mystery that has puzzled me 
 somewhat of late." 
 
 "Oh, tell me about it, I love mysteries," she said 
 with eager interest. 
 
 "Well, two weeks or so before I left home, about the 
 stunningest looking creature I ever saw came into my 
 office and inquired if I knew where Miss Bellinger 
 could be found. Said she heard that you knew my 
 father. She was dressed all in black, and looked so 
 much like you that at first I thought you were playing 
 some joke on me. But then I saw that she was older 
 than you about twenty-five, I should say. She 
 left her card, with her address written on it and was 
 very anxious that I notify her if I heard anything from 
 you. But the name on the card was Desroches, or 
 something like that, if I remember rightly. She was 
 stopping at some hotel in New York. I should have 
 asked her if she was a relative of yours, but I was so 
 almighty flustered for a minute that I never thought of 
 it until after she had gone. Then I wanted to kick 
 myself." 
 
 218
 
 THINGS LOOK SUSPICIOUS TO TOM 
 
 "Oh, do you suppose you could find that card?" she 
 asked, "I know it must be my sister Belle." 
 
 "Yes, the card is in my desk, and I ll write her, if 
 you say, as soon as I get home." 
 
 "I should be so much obliged if you would I 
 wonder if she is still there I hope she is. She s 
 probably just learned of mother s death, and gone in 
 mourning for her." 
 
 "What a little world we live in!" remarked Tom. 
 "I ve spent so much time unraveling mysteries of late 
 that if ever I get hard up I believe I could qualify as a 
 private detective " 
 
 "And let me be your first assistant," she added with 
 a laugh. 
 
 "My assistant! My manager, you mean. Here 
 I ve had a standing reward for weeks, and you ve out 
 done all the detectives in the country. That reminds 
 me I must wire and have that reward withdrawn." 
 
 "Yes, but you have even outdone me," she replied 
 with a laugh. 
 
 "Not until you slackened your vigilance, though. 
 You frightened my detective out of his wits, and out of 
 town, too without his luggage. He was glad to 
 escape with his life." They both laughed. 
 
 "I always thought Sid had pretty good taste," said 
 Tom, "until he refused your proposal of marriage." 
 
 "You think you wouldn t be so easily frightened?" 
 
 "Well, you d better not try it on me." 
 
 219
 
 CHAPTER TWENTY 
 
 "No, I m not crazy now, you know." 
 
 "Thank you. I guess if Sid heard that he d have 
 the laugh on me. When he told me you insisted on 
 marrying him I thoughtlessly remarked that you 
 surely must have been crazy." 
 
 "My remark, like yours," she said, "sounded much 
 worse than intended." 
 
 In the afternoon they drove to town for Mr. 
 Farnsworth. 
 
 "That girl is certainly a puzzle," mused Tom as he 
 sat in his room that night thinking over what Kitty 
 had said during the day. "Sheldon is head over ears in 
 love with her and I ll bet she won t marry him for fear 
 of hurting father s feelings." 
 
 Upon finding Kitty and his father together he formed 
 his own hasty conclusions; but after talking with 
 Kitty he entirely changed his opinion. Her modesty 
 and innocent ways quite disarmed him of suspicion. 
 
 "Father," said Tom one evening when they were 
 alone on the front veranda, "how long before you are 
 coming back to New York?" 
 
 "Never, I m afraid, Tom." 
 
 "Why, you don t intend to continue here on a salary 
 and neglect your business there, do you?" 
 
 "Yes, Tom, I have all the funds I need now, my 
 salary and the income from a thousand shares of stock 
 are quite enough to satisfy my modest requirements." 
 
 "Father, the firm owns a lot of the Sheldon Mining 
 
 220
 
 THINGS LOOK SUSPICIOUS TO TOM 
 
 stock, why don t you take that? I ll arrange with 
 Burleigh to turn it over to me. That really belongs to 
 you, and I hate to see mother get any of it." 
 
 "No, Tom, you keep it in the firm, and if ever I need 
 it I ll let you know. Now, about your mother, - 
 when she gets her divorce, I have arranged with Mr. 
 Sheldon to advance the money to pay off her interest 
 in the business, so it will cause the firm no incon 
 venience. It will be paid over to her when the court 
 determines the amount. You will keep a close eye on 
 the proceedings and keep me advised. If she tries to 
 take any advantage of you, let me know at once." 
 
 While on the train returning to New York a few 
 days later, Tom tried in vain to puzzle out his mother s 
 strange actions, and why she had said nothing to him 
 about having discovered his father. In order to avoid 
 an embarrassing situation in the household he wond 
 ered if it was not best to make a clean breast of matters 
 and tell her where he had been. But the note from 
 his mother that awaited him at home rendered any 
 explanation unnecessary, 
 
 221
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 THE NEWCOMERS 
 
 A few days after Tom left Colorado Springs, Madam 
 Desroches, with her little seven-year-old daughter 
 arrived there, and on reaching the Haunted Caves in 
 the afternoon, they found Kitty dressed in her riding 
 habit ready to leave the house. Upon meeting her 
 sister and her heretofore unknown niece she broke into 
 a volley of joyous exclamations and alternately hugged 
 them both until unbidden they sat down from sheer 
 exhaustion. 
 
 "Oh, sister Belle!" she said at length, "I must tell 
 you all about my foster uncle." 
 
 While little Constance was in charge of her maid, 
 Kitty told briefly how she first came to know Mr. 
 Farnsworth, and related the tragic story of the past 
 few weeks. 
 
 "Kitty," said Belle as she embraced and kissed her 
 affectionately, "you are a perfect darling; and I m 
 proud to be your sister. I couldn t have believed all 
 this if I hadn t heard it from your own lips." 
 
 In her turn she told Kitty of her marriage to a 
 Frenchman, after which she had left the stage and 
 settled in Paris. "A few years later," she said, "while 
 we were in Bombay my husband was taken ill and died 
 suddenly, leaving me in possession of an ample income. 
 
 222
 
 THE NEWCOMERS 
 
 I returned to Paris and wrote to mother telling her of 
 rny sorrow and loneliness, and begged her forgiveness, 
 hoping to return to my own home and country." 
 
 When Mr. Farnsworth arrived home in the after 
 noon Kitty came tripping out on the veranda, dragging 
 Belle along with one arm around her waist. 
 
 "Uncle, our family has doubled since morning. 
 This is my lovely sister I ve been telling you so much 
 about," she said as she introduced them. 
 
 "If she is as much like you in other ways as she is 
 in looks, our household promises to excite the envy of 
 the gods," he said as he stood looking from one to the 
 other, astonished at their likeness. 
 
 "Belle," she said, turning to her sister, "I forgot to 
 tell you that uncle is much given to good natured 
 flattery since he came out here." 
 
 "Now, why do you impress your sister with my in 
 sincerity, Kitty, when I was never more in earnest in 
 all my life?" 
 
 "I m sure," said Belle, coming to his assistance, "it 
 must be your presence that frustrates my sister and 
 causes her to contradict herself, for she s talked cease 
 lessly of you and your admirable qualities ever since I 
 came. I am really quite relieved to find that you have 
 at least a single human frailty." 
 
 Just as he was about to answer, his speech was cut 
 short by little Constance who came rushing out the 
 front door, exclaiming in French, 
 
 223
 
 CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE 
 
 "Oo, mamma, I ve found a nest of the cunningest 
 kittens!" as she held up a little ball of fur, while her 
 eyes danced and sparkled with raptures of delight. 
 
 "Whose sweet child are you?" asked Mr. Farnsworth 
 in broken French. She stopped suddenly and looked 
 at him in surprise, then inquiringly at her mother. 
 
 "Answer the gentleman, in English, and tell him 
 who you are; then make your apology, like a little 
 dear, for interrupting our conversation." 
 
 "My name is Constance Desroches," she said 
 sweetly, with a slight French accent, as she courtesied 
 gracefully. "Please sir, excuse me; I didn t know 
 there was a gentleman out here." 
 
 If Mr. Farnsworth was delighted at meeting Belle, 
 he was charmed, ecstatic, at the discovery of her little 
 girl. He had always lamented the fact that he had no 
 daughter, and often said he wished he had a house full 
 of little girls. 
 
 He was so completely lost in dreams of happiness in 
 his augmented household that there appeared to be 
 nothing further to be desired, especially when a little 
 later Kitty drew him aside and told him that the guests 
 had come to stay indefinitely. For some singular 
 reason he could not tell just why on hearing this 
 bit of welcome news he suddenly thought of his wife, 
 and earnestly hoped that nothing would intervene to 
 cause delay in the granting of her divorce. 
 
 That night before retiring Kitty went to her sister s 
 
 224
 
 THE NEWCOMERS 
 
 room, which connected with her own, and as they were 
 seated together, clad in their lounging robes with their 
 hair flowing loosely over their shoulders it made a 
 picture worthy of an artist s dream. Indeed the old 
 hermit had remarked that "When God made Kitty the 
 walls of heaven must have resounded with the praises 
 of the angels." In her sister he would have discov 
 ered the exact model after which she was made, except 
 that Kitty had blue eyes and dark hair, while her sister 
 had large brown eyes and dark chestnut hair. Al 
 though a little over thirty she appeared much younger ; 
 and when her lips parted in a smile they disclosed two 
 even rows of beautiful white teeth which almost 
 provoked a suspicion that they had been made to order. 
 Once when a newspaper reporter who had interviewed 
 her attempted to describe her beauty, he lamented that 
 words were "as inadequate in portraying her surpass 
 ing charms as they would be in describing a beautiful 
 melody, or the delicate blush and fragrance of a 
 rose." 
 
 The two women talked over incidents of their past 
 lives and of their parents who had passed away. At 
 length Belle asked Kitty if she had ever heard of a Mr. 
 Sheldon, of Colorado Springs. 
 
 "Have I ever heard of him! Why, he is our best 
 friend here. He owns a large interest in the great 
 mining company of which uncle is president. And 
 besides, he owns the bank, the opera house, a large 
 
 225
 
 CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE 
 
 hotel, and I should think nearly everything else in the 
 town that s worth owning." 
 
 "Are his parents still living?" she inquired. 
 
 "No, they are both dead. His father died within the 
 past few months." 
 
 "Kitty, can you keep a secret?" 
 
 "Did you ever know a woman who couldn t?" she 
 asked. 
 
 "Very well then: about thirteen years ago, while I 
 was playing in Boston, I was given a reception at a 
 private home on Beacon Street, and there I met this 
 Mr. Sheldon, then a young man attending Harvard. 
 It appeared like a case of mutual admiration from the 
 start, and when I went to Philadelphia he followed a 
 few days later and spent a week there. Then he spent 
 several days in Chicago while I was there, and six 
 months later we were engaged." 
 
 "Engaged! How romantic! Just think of il !" 
 exclaimed Kitty. "Does he know you re here?" 
 
 "No, he knows nothing about it. Shortly after we 
 became engaged he went home for the summer vaca 
 tion, and a few days later I received a letter from his 
 father saying that his son was still under legal age, 
 and he absolutely refused to permit him to marry an 
 actress. He begged me to give him up and forget him. 
 Said he would disinherit his son and do all sorts of 
 things if he married me. 
 
 "I wrote William two letters but received no reply. 
 
 226
 
 THE NEWCOMERS 
 
 So I concluded that his parents had persuaded him to 
 give me up, and that summer I went abroad. Three 
 years later I married a Frenchman in Paris, and when 
 little Constance was born, I left the stage for good. From 
 the time William bade me good-by and went home, until 
 this day I have never seen or heard a word from him." 
 
 "And did you really and truly love him, Belle?" 
 
 "I thought so at the time, but I was young and I - 
 I suppose he has forgotten all about me, long ago." 
 
 "No, he hasn t, for when he first saw me he started 
 up in surprise as if I reminded him of someone it 
 was you he had in mind. I see now why he fell in 
 love with Say, Belle, can you keep a secret?" 
 
 "It s no secret, Kitty, dear; it s written all over 
 your face. He s in love with you, isn t he, dear?" 
 
 "How absurd!" she said blushingly. "It s your 
 image that he is in love with." 
 
 "Come, now, Kitty, don t try to deceive your sister 
 Belle. You know and I know he loves you." 
 
 "Yes, but it s because he thinks I look like you," she 
 said poutingly. 
 
 "It s no such thing; he adores you, as any man 
 might be proud to do, for your own dear sweet self 
 alone. And you are in love with him?" 
 
 "Yes, I m afraid I am." 
 
 "And when are you to be married?" 
 
 "I don t know; that is, I haven t given him my 
 answer yet." 
 
 227
 
 CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE 
 
 "Oh, Kitty, dear! I could just hug you to death;" 
 and suiting the action to her words she threw her arms 
 about Kitty s neck and squeezed and kissed her 
 repeatedly. 
 
 "Then you are not cross with me, Belle?" 
 
 "Cross with you? Why no I I am delighted 
 overjoyed. Oh, it s too good to be true ! But tell me, 
 Kitty, how could you ever fall in love with anyone else 
 while you have that adorable uncle of yours?" 
 
 "Why, Belle! He would never think of marrying 
 me!" 
 
 "But you said that he had arranged for his wife to 
 get a divorce." 
 
 "Yes, but he d never dream of such a thing as marry 
 ing his niece; and he has always treated me as he 
 would his own niece." 
 
 "Then what will he do without you when you marry?" 
 
 "I don t know that s what bothers me," she said. 
 "I m so afraid he will miss me, and that s why I 
 haven t given Mr. Sheldon my answer yet. Uncle is 
 such a perfectly dear man, and he s had so many dis 
 appointments that I wouldn t do anything to make 
 him lonesome, or hurt his feelings, no matter if I were 
 in love with a dozen men. 
 
 "Oh, Belle, he was so good and kind to me in New 
 York. I was in the most desperate condition; and I 
 don t know what would have become of me if he 
 hadn t helped me." 
 
 228
 
 THE NEWCOMERS 
 
 "Yes, but see how generously you have repaid his 
 kindness! Just think of your having saved his life!" 
 Then after a moment s pause, "Now, for the present, 
 Kitty, let s say nothing about my personal affairs to 
 Mr. Sheldon, further than to tell him I am here from 
 Paris, visiting you with my little daughter. Then 
 there ll be no need of any explanations. See?" 
 
 "Y - e - s, Belle, I see ; but if it is you that he really 
 loves, I must give him up. I couldn t think of blight 
 ing his happiness with the woman he loves." 
 
 "No, no, Kitty, I m sure he doesn t care for me. 
 Moreover, I ve outgrown every particle of interest I 
 ever had in him honest, I have. And Kitty, let me 
 prove it to you but don t breathe this to a living 
 soul," she said as she lowered her voice and glanced 
 cautiously around the room, "I ve got my eye on 
 another man !" 
 
 The playful twinkle in Belle s eye was unobserved 
 by Kitty. 
 
 Next day Kitty left Belle with her maid unpacking 
 her trunks, while she went in town. She called Mr. 
 Sheldon on the phone. 
 
 "I have someone visiting me, and I want you to 
 come out to dinner tonight ; but on condition that you 
 promise me on your honor that you won t fall in love 
 with her. . . . What? You won t promise? . . . 
 But I told you I would give my answer soon ; and you 
 simply can t come unless you promise. . . . Then 
 
 229
 
 CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE 
 
 you do? Good! But you mustn t even look at her, 
 except with my permission. And, listen! Just wear 
 your plain business clothes don t bother to doll 
 yourself up any do you hear? . . . Yes, just home 
 folks, you know. Goodby!" Hanging up the re 
 ceiver, she meditated for a moment. 
 
 "I ll just bring them together and put him to the 
 test; then if he wavers, I shall know he doesn t love 
 me. It will be better to learn the truth now before it s 
 too late." 
 
 Kitty s apprehensions were all dispelled that night 
 when on taking his leave Mr. Sheldon asked her to 
 walk out in the garden with him. Taking both her 
 hands in his he said, - 
 
 "Kitty, your sister has told you of the past?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "I really adored her in all sincerity ; but now 
 now!" as he clasped her in his arms "you are my 
 true love !" 
 
 230
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 THE PRICE OF A FRENCH COUNT 
 
 When Mrs. Farnsworth returned from the West she 
 did not act at once upon her husband s advice to apply 
 for a divorce; but she made preparations for an im 
 mediate departure for Europe. The inhospitable 
 atmosphere of New York was no longer tolerable, and 
 she was anxious to be off where she could see no one 
 who knew her. 
 
 In her hurriedly scribbled good-by note to Tom she 
 gave no intimation of why she had left so suddenly, or 
 when she would return. Shortly after reaching Paris 
 she wrote him a long letter about the journey, and an 
 old acquaintance she had found living in Paris. She 
 was quite cheerful in the Paris atmosphere, and said 
 she would probably remain in France for some time. 
 
 Through her friend in Paris she met the Comte de la 
 Plage, who manifested a deep interest in her upon 
 learning that she was a rich American widow. She 
 felt much flattered by his marked attentions, and 
 though she prudently avoided being seen with him in 
 public, on several occasions they lunched together in 
 private. On leaving Paris after several weeks stay, 
 she complied with his urgent request for her itinerary. 
 
 Joining a party of American tourists she journeyed 
 leisurely through Italy, arriving in due time at Florence, 
 
 231
 
 CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO 
 
 where she was to remain several days. On reaching 
 her hotel she was much chagrined at finding no word 
 from the Count ; but arriving at Rome a few days later 
 she found him awaiting her. Important business 
 made his presence necessary there, he said, and by 
 coming when he did he found it possible to break the 
 dull monotony of business by anticipating the pleasure 
 of surprising her. He had gone before her in order 
 that he might finish his business and be at leisure on 
 her arrival. 
 
 Seeing no one they knew, they spent much time in 
 each other s company, driving and sight-seeing. In 
 discussing affairs of the heart he told her that the 
 frivolity of the French women distressed him. The 
 American women, he had observed, made the best 
 wives, and if ever he decided to marry, he would 
 probably choose an American woman to grace his castle. 
 
 When they had been in Rome a few days the Count 
 read her a letter purporting to be from his private 
 secretary at his chateau in the south of France, saying 
 that fire originating in the basement had damaged the 
 floor of the grand ball room, but the paintings and new 
 fresco work were unharmed. He told her that his 
 chateau was closed for a few months, undergoing some 
 minor repairs, but it would be open again in the spring, 
 and he hoped that she would remain until then and 
 make one of the house party at the opening, when she 
 would meet the American Ambassador and several dis- 
 
 232
 
 THE PRICE OF A FRENCH COUNT 
 
 tinguished guests from her own country. She de 
 clined the invitation on the plea that she ought to leave 
 for home in a few weeks, but possibly she would return 
 again the next summer. 
 
 After a couple of weeks spent in Rome the Count 
 told Mrs. Farnsworth he had just received an urgent 
 message from his home government, calling him to 
 Paris on some important official business. Much to 
 her delight, he said that this would probably make it 
 necessary that he go to America within a few weeks on 
 a government mission, the nature of which would re 
 quire that he travel incognito. His request for per 
 mission to call on her at home was readily granted. 
 
 After leaving Rome Mrs. Farnsworth s thoughts 
 were so taken up by the marked attentions that the 
 distinguished Count had shown her that the places of 
 interest throughout the remainder of her tour ceased 
 to have much attraction for her. In viewing castles 
 and chateaux thereafter she was sure to wonder if they 
 were anything like the Comte de la Plage s ; and when 
 in art galleries she scrutinized the works of the old 
 masters she compared them in her mind s eye with the 
 great masterpieces in the private gallery of the Count, 
 of which he had told her so much. 
 
 "What a perfectly charming man!" she thought; and 
 she even permitted her thoughts to go so far afield as to 
 picture herself the mistress of an ancient castle, and 
 contemplate the social prestige that such a position 
 
 233
 
 CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO 
 
 would insure. The individuality of the Count himself 
 seemed strangely lost amid these visions. He was 
 regarded only as a means to a desired end. 
 
 "The ambition of my life! the culmination of my 
 soul s fondest desire!" she thought. What exquisite 
 delight she would take in snubbing those people in 
 New York who had thwarted her social ambitions ! 
 
 "Think of it! A Countess! Just think of it!" she 
 mused. 
 
 Was he not marriageable? Had he not followed her 
 to Rome, under the pretext of some business engage 
 ment? Had he not expressed a preference for Ameri 
 can women? Had he not asked permission to call on 
 her? Had he not confided in her the state of his 
 finances that his chateau and estates were encum 
 bered to the extent of a million francs? "Only two 
 hundred thousand dollars! The paintings alone are 
 perhaps worth much more than that!" And was it 
 not reasonable to infer from all this that his intentions 
 might become matrimonial? She decided to return 
 and apply for a divorce at once. By waiting a year or 
 so the public would absolve her from any lack of 
 reverence for the memory of her husband. 
 
 Filled with these fantasies it is not strange that she 
 became anxious to get back home, begin her divorce 
 proceedings, and put things in readiness for the Count s 
 visit. The beauty of it all was that he would appear 
 there under an assumed name, and they would be 
 
 234
 
 THE PRICE OF A FRENCH COUNT 
 
 spared the press comment that would inevitably follow 
 if it became known that she was entertaining a French 
 Count; for people would then spring to the popular 
 conclusion that he was paying her court merely for 
 her reputed wealth. 
 
 "How absurd !" she reasoned "He s so gallant ; 
 and besides, he s not that kind of a man !" 
 
 When Mrs. Farnsworth returned to New York, she 
 found that in her absence Tom had closed the house 
 and was living at his club. She had the house ren 
 ovated from the basement to the roof, and bought a 
 number of new articles such as costly rugs and bric-a- 
 brac. Tom was moved to inquire if she was preparing 
 for "the return of the Prodigal Son." 
 
 "No, Tom, but I am expecting to receive the Comte 
 de la Plage, whom I met while abroad. I hope you ll 
 like him." 
 
 "Oh, a French Count, eh? Some broken-down off 
 shoot of the aristocracy, I suppose, that s looking for a 
 little ready money. Well, all I ve got to say is that 
 he s welcome to all he gets out of you, mother. If he 
 can beat you at the game of love and finance he d find 
 Monte Carlo an easy proposition." 
 
 "You shouldn t speak that way, Tom ; he is a gentle 
 man of noble birth and large estate." 
 
 "Oh, yes, that s what they all say that s a part of 
 their business. How much does he ask for himself? 
 Has he set the price?" 
 
 235
 
 CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO 
 
 "I ll have you to know, he s not for sale," she replied 
 sharply. 
 
 "Then what s he coming over here for? Is he going 
 to give himself up for nothing?" 
 
 "He s coming on business for the French govern 
 ment. He has a beautiful chateau one of the oldest 
 in France with a private art gallery and a grand 
 ball room. It is a large estate, and it has been in the 
 family for generations and generations back. You 
 are prejudiced Tom, and when he comes I suppose 
 you ll disgrace me by being uncivil to him," she said 
 poutingly. 
 
 "No, mother, you may depend upon me I was 
 only joking. You mustn t take me seriously in every 
 thing I say. Have you applied for your divorce yet?" 
 
 She started as if stung by a wasp. "How did you 
 know I had applied for a divorce? It is to be a private 
 hearing." 
 
 He didn t know it, and he had forgotten for the 
 moment that he was not supposed to know about it. 
 
 "Oh, I supposed of course you d have to go through 
 some sort of legal proceedings, not knowing for sure 
 whether father is dead or not." Pretending some 
 important engagement that he just remembered, Tom 
 was glad to make his escape. 
 
 When he got off by himself he began to think matters 
 over seriously. "Well, what d you think of that? 
 She goes abroad and lands a Count at the first cast of 
 
 236
 
 THE PRICE OF A FRENCH COUNT 
 
 the hook. Just what she s been longing for all these 
 years, I ll bet. Between her with her French Count 
 and father out there with Kitty, if the newspaper re 
 porters got hold of the facts we d have a family write- 
 up that would give people something to talk about for 
 months." 
 
 He wondered again if after all it wouldn t be best to 
 tell her that he knew his father was alive. He finally 
 decided, however, to wait until the Count came and 
 he would look him over. 
 
 In a few weeks the Count arrived and took an ex 
 pensive suite at a fashionable hotel. He was received 
 at home by Mrs. Farnsworth and introduced to Tom. 
 He was tall and looked to be a man in the neighbor 
 hood of forty, with pointed features, dark hair and 
 restless eyes, in which Tom thought he detected a 
 sinister expression. He had a peculiar nervous affec 
 tion that caused him to turn his head every little while 
 as if to look behind him. His words were spoken 
 quick and decisively, and with a slight French accent. 
 A short moustache and imperial were his facial adorn 
 ments, and he was attired after the latest Parisian 
 fashion. His manner was for the most part easy and 
 graceful, and even Tom was forced to admit that he 
 had every appearance of a gentleman of high caste. 
 
 His chateau, so he said, had long been a gathering 
 place for the old French nobility, but he had grown 
 tired of the observance of strict conventionalities in 
 
 2 3 7
 
 CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO 
 
 the higher social life, and much preferred the freedom 
 and cordiality of American society. In the Revolution 
 the vast fortune of his family had been swept away, 
 and the beautiful old chateau, with its lands and his 
 good name were about all that were left him. He had 
 photographs of the buildings and grounds, with a 
 private catalogue of the paintings, which included 
 many valuable pieces by the old masters. 
 
 In discussing the problems of finance with Tom he 
 displayed a thorough knowledge of banking laws and 
 customs both here and abroad. In politics and naval 
 affairs he was well versed, and knew the name and dis 
 placement of every American man-of-war, and was 
 conversant with the strength of all our fortifications. 
 Although he did not disclose the nature of his mission 
 to this country, Tom suspected that if it had any pur 
 pose outside of his personal interests, it had something 
 to do with naval matters. During the three weeks he 
 spent in this country he ostensibly made several trips 
 to Washington, and seemed much elated each time 
 upon his return. 
 
 Tom watched carefully the actions of his mother 
 and the Count, and became much alarmed over the 
 bond of sympathy that apparently existed between 
 them lest it result in a serious attachment. In the 
 presence of the Count his mother seemed a different 
 woman from what he had ever known her. Her 
 apathetic manner had vanished, and she appeared as 
 
 238
 
 THE PRICE OF A FRENCH COUNT 
 
 animated and carefree as if she had never known a 
 sorrow. The wardrobe she brought from abroad con 
 sisting of many costly gowns the latest Parisian 
 creations outstripped anything he had ever seen 
 her wear. 
 
 "How can she do it?" he queried. 
 
 He was much relieved when the Count sailed for 
 home, for during the last few days matters were shap 
 ing themselves so dangerously near a climax that sev 
 eral times he had been on the point of telling his mother 
 that she was still legally attached to a husband living. 
 
 "Mother," said Tom, the next day after the Count s 
 departure, "I am at a loss to understand your sprightly 
 manner of late. Are you really serious about this 
 affair with the Count?" 
 
 "Perhaps I can best explain by showing you the evi 
 dence of a little secret," she said. Going into the next 
 room she soon returned with a pretentious looking 
 document printed in French, with a large gold seal. 
 
 "This may help you to a better understanding." 
 
 "What s this?" he asked as he unfolded the paper 
 and gave it a hurried glance. 
 
 "That, Tom," she said, straightening herself up with 
 a pompous air, "is a mortgage on the Count s estate, 
 including the chateau and all its furnishings." 
 
 Tom exclaimed aghast "A million francs!" 
 
 "Yes," she replied calmly, "but it is in reality only 
 about two hundred thousand dollars." 
 
 239
 
 CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO 
 
 "Only two hundred thousand! And you gave him 
 that amount of money, when you wouldn t lend it to 
 your own husband to save his life?" 
 
 "No, I only lent it to him, and took that for security. 
 And that is not all " she said hesitatingly, paying no 
 heed to the latter part of his question "But perhaps 
 I had better not tell you the rest until later." 
 
 She had said enough. Without another word Tom 
 left the room, seized his hat and strode out on to the 
 street, banging the door behind him so that it shook 
 the whole house. 
 
 "Well, what d you think of that? That fellow has 
 come over here lone-handed and humbugged her out 
 of a cool two hundred thousand, and then something 
 else she didn t say what. I hope it s nothing more 
 serious than a promise to marry him." 
 
 After fuming about on the street for a while, Tom 
 returned to the house and found his mother in the 
 library hunting for some record of French genealogy; 
 but none was to be found. 
 
 "No, mother," he said, "when father bought these 
 books he didn t contemplate the need of such a work. 
 You should have looked that up while you were abroad. 
 And since you evidently didn t, the thing for you to do 
 now is engage accommodations at some good com 
 fortable lunatic asylum, and call in an alienist to ex 
 amine your head and find out what ward you belong 
 in." 
 
 240
 
 THE PRICE OF A FRENCH COUNT 
 
 She stared at him helplessly. "Do you really think 
 that man could be an imposter, Tom?" 
 
 "Yes, he could be, but that s not saying he is, al 
 though the whole business looks to me like a put up 
 game. If he s a genuine count, he must be a cheap 
 one. The real ones usually ask a million dollars or 
 more. On the whole, you got off pretty easy. What s 
 the next move to be?" 
 
 "Why, we left it that I was to go over there late in 
 May, and attend a house party at his chateau." 
 
 "If I were in your place, mother, I d forego the house 
 party. It s bad enough to lose your money, but it 
 would be worse to have those people laugh at you. 
 You d better send someone over there to look this 
 fellow up quietly and see if he s all he professes to be." 
 
 "An excellent idea, Tom! That s what I ll do. 
 Telephone for a detective and we ll follow him right 
 up." 
 
 241
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 BLIGHTED HOPES OF SOCIAL EMINENCE 
 
 Later when the emissary returned from abroad he 
 reported that the Comte de la Plage occupied no lands 
 or chateau in France. His estate, though still in his 
 name, was now occupied by his uncle who had taken 
 possession of it under foreclosure proceedings which 
 were pending in the courts. The Count s title ap 
 peared to be genuine, but of late years he had led a 
 riotous life in Paris and had squandered all his property 
 except a very meagre income. 
 
 "The government business," said the detective, 
 "which brought the Comte de la Plage to this country 
 was merely a subterfuge. I learned from one of his 
 acquaintances that on meeting and talking with you in 
 Paris he surmised that you were much impressed by 
 the titled aristocracy, and he perhaps concluded that 
 you would be an easy victim," he said without knowing 
 she had already been made the victim. 
 
 In substance, the count had inherited a valuable 
 estate from a deceased uncle, as a result of which the 
 Marquis LeBon, another uncle a brother of the de 
 ceased had been incited to jealousy. The estate 
 was encumbered for upwards of half a million francs, 
 and the marquis had secretly bought up the mortgage 
 and tax liens. 
 
 242
 
 BLIGHTED HOPES OF SOCIAL EMINENCE 
 
 While the Count was living a life of revelry in Paris, 
 the Marquis LeBon went to the bankers and persuaded 
 them to offer the Count more money on his estate, and 
 he had fallen into the trap by increasing the indebted 
 ness to almost double. When the obligation fell due 
 he was unable to meet it, having lost the money in 
 gambling, and the documents were so worded that the 
 mortgagee could take possession of the premises at 
 once upon default of payment. The Count was sud 
 denly brought to his senses by finding that his worst 
 enemy held all his outstanding evidence of indebted 
 ness, and had already taken possession of his chateau 
 and estate. He immediately began casting about for 
 some method of retaliation, by which he might recover 
 his lost property. 
 
 "This," said Mrs. Farnsworth, turning to Tom, who 
 sat by, "makes my mortification complete. I appear 
 to be a victim of circumstances." 
 
 "A victim of your own folly!" thought Tom to 
 himself. 
 
 As the detective was leaving he made a sign to Tom 
 indicating that he wished to see him alone. When 
 they were outside he said, - 
 
 "Say, your mother seemed so cut up that I didn t tell 
 her the whole of the story. This Count has been 
 married twice. His first wife ran away from him be 
 cause he got drunk and nearly beat her to death. She 
 afterwards died in Italy; then he married again, and 
 
 243
 
 CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE 
 
 in less than a year his second wife poisoned herself 
 at least that s the story. Some say he poisoned her. 
 He was dead drunk in Paris for eight weeks, and was 
 put in jail twice, though the gambling houses managed 
 to keep it out of the papers. 
 
 "For God s sake, tell your mother not to lend him a 
 cent or have anything to do with him," said the de 
 tective as they parted. 
 
 "My Lord! Wouldn t he make a fine step-father!" 
 thought Tom as he was returning to the house. He 
 said nothing to his mother about what the man had 
 told him, feeling that she already knew enough. In 
 answer to his suggestion that she have the Count pros 
 ecuted she replied that already there had been enough 
 trouble, and she did not care to publish her humiliation 
 to the world and give her erstwhile society friends an 
 other chance to sneer at her; especially since there 
 was but little hope of recovering the money. 
 
 "And I must stop that divorce proceeding at once!" 
 she declared. 
 
 Tom looked at her, stupefied. 
 
 "I d wait awhile, mother, before withdrawing it; 
 maybe this fellow isn t as bad as he s painted. We ve 
 only heard one side of the case. Possibly he intends 
 to use the money to get the property back, if only just 
 to spite his uncle. In that case your mortgage will be 
 good," he said, though he strongly suspected that al 
 ready the Count had gambled the money away. She 
 
 244
 
 BLIGHTED HOPES OF SOCIAL EMINENCE 
 
 looked at him curiously, wondering if he had really 
 become interested in the Count, without dreaming of 
 his real motive in taking sides with him. 
 
 A few days later Mrs. Farnsworth received a cable 
 gram from the Count asking her to suspend judgment 
 until he had an opportunity of explaining matters to her. 
 
 "A very clever manoeuvre," remarked Tom, mo 
 mentarily forgetting her previous threat to stop the 
 divorce. "He hopes to hold you off from prosecuting 
 him until he can get away, out of reach, or spend the 
 money." 
 
 On his return voyage to France after procuring a bill 
 of exchange for the money obtained from Mrs. Farns 
 worth the Comte de la Plage fell into a reverie regarding 
 his generous benefactor and the course he had pursued 
 in getting the money. So eager had he been in accom 
 plishing his purpose that he had for the moment lost 
 all moral sense; but now that he had succeeded, his 
 conscience in his sober senses did not altogether ap 
 prove of the methods employed ; particularly since there 
 was so much more that he might get just as easily. 
 
 Moreover, if he refused to fulfill his marriage agree 
 ment with this woman the affair would perhaps find 
 widespread circulation in the newspapers ; he would be 
 publicly stigmatized, and would doubtless lose the 
 estate besides. It would only amount to a stay of 
 proceedings for two years. 
 
 245
 
 CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE 
 
 Of even more weighty consideration, if possible, was 
 the thought that his uncle, after suffering the humilia 
 tion now in store for him, would perhaps live to see the 
 tables turned, and it was not impossible that he would 
 eventually get control of the coveted property; for 
 when Mrs. Farnsworth took it under the mortgage she 
 would have no use for it without the title. 
 
 Then, too, was she not a highly attractive woman, 
 of dignified bearing, and large means? He had asked 
 for only enough money to regain the property, and 
 more funds would be required to keep it up. She had 
 not faltered in letting him have a million francs, and 
 would it not be reasonable to suppose that she would 
 be even more generous if she became the mistress of 
 his chateau? Since he had found it so easy to get a 
 million francs, he might as well have the use of the 
 remainder of her fortune. 
 
 Even laying aside any consideration of personal 
 honor it would be a wise business move. It would in 
 sure him an income adequate to his demands and spare 
 him the mortification of seeing his uncle triumph over 
 his discomfiture later. The alliance would be merely 
 a platonic and dispassionate exchange of considera 
 tions, so common in cases where aspiring American 
 heiresses had married into nobility: her ambition for 
 social distinction would be gratified, and his pecuniary 
 needs would be satisfied. 
 
 If their temperaments proved to be irreconcilable it 
 
 246
 
 BLIGHTED HOPES OF SOCIAL EMINENCE 
 
 would be much easier and more creditable to get rid of 
 her as he had done with the first two, than it would be 
 to shirk his responsibility to marry her. In short, 
 there appeared to be numberless sound reasons why he 
 should do as he agreed, and no plausible excuse for 
 doing as he had intended. 
 
 He therefore decided that after repossessing himself 
 of the estate he would confess to her that he had misled 
 her regarding the matter of improvements for which he 
 asked the money, and explain that the deception was 
 resorted to for fear she might think his motives were 
 mercenary. Sometime after reaching France he acci 
 dentally learned that a strange person had been making 
 inquiry about him and his property, and suspecting it 
 to be on her behalf, and that she would discover his 
 treachery, he sent the cablegram asking her to suspend 
 judgment until he could explain matters. 
 
 On meeting the Count in Paris Mrs. Farnsworth 
 coquetted with him at first, but when she saw a possible 
 opportunity of gratifying her long cherished social am 
 bition she encouraged his serious attentions. He took 
 her quite by surprise in making so abrupt a proposal of 
 marriage. 
 
 She was now curious to know if the Count really had 
 any explanation to make; but thought it highly im 
 probable that he had any intention of communicating 
 with her again. In fact she was in no frame of mind 
 
 247
 
 CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE 
 
 to listen to his overtures and she rather hoped that he 
 would not annoy her with them. The engagement 
 appeared like a sham affair, and it looked as if the 
 Fates were mocking her. 
 
 One afternoon the butler announced Monsieur 
 Chalet, which she recognized as the nom de guerre 
 assumed by the Count when he had visited her. She 
 received him coldly and listened at first with indiffer 
 ent attention to his overtures ; then with gradually in 
 creasing interest and sympathy as he graphically 
 related his pecuniary misfortunes and disappointments 
 in life. 
 
 "I became the helpless victim of a burning passion 
 for you," he said, "and my love blinded me to all sense 
 of regard for other considerations." But his former 
 love affairs were not mentioned. 
 
 He declared that he had been afraid to confess the 
 whole truth about his financial difficulties at the out 
 set, fearing she might suspect that his love for her 
 was not inspired by the purest and most disinterested 
 motives, which he assured her was not the case. His 
 love for her would not be lessened in the least, he said, 
 if she were penniless. What he wanted was her sweet 
 companionship and her beautiful personality to grace 
 his castle and assist him in maintaining the traditional 
 social functions for which his family and the chateau 
 had long been famous. 
 
 He knew this line of reasoning would please her 
 
 248
 
 BLIGHTED HOPES OF SOCIAL EMINENCE 
 
 vanity and he therefore pictured vividly the position 
 she would occupy among the exclusive social set. 
 With her beauty, wit and prestige she would be a reign 
 ing society queen, and he as her consort would be the 
 envy of all France. At this point his argument fell 
 upon receptive ears. She wavered, her heart palpitated 
 and again she fell precipitately into his suavely con 
 structed web. He showed her the signed release of 
 the mortgage on the property, and thanked her pro 
 fusely for being the means of restoring his family 
 estate to him. 
 
 Her love, he said, had given him new hope, new aims 
 in life, and inspired him with nobler motives. If she 
 refused to forgive him for the deception and wished her 
 money back, he would sacrifice the ancient abode and 
 restore the money, or turn the entire property over to 
 her ; for without her love he would have no earthly use 
 for the money or estate, or even his own life. He cast 
 himself, the honor of his family name, the estate and 
 all upon her mercy and begged her to act according to 
 the dictates of her own heart. If she refused him all 
 was lost ; if she accepted him their happiness would be 
 complete. 
 
 Considering her lonely and ostracised condition, and 
 the social advantages of such an alliance, she decided 
 to reaffirm her promise to marry him inside of two 
 years. Meantime she would make preparations to 
 assume the social functions of the Comtesse de la Plage. 
 
 249
 
 CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE 
 
 Shortly after procuring her divorce Mrs. Farnsworth 
 received a marked copy of a leading Paris paper, and 
 her dreams of social eminence were again shattered 
 when her eyes fell upon the following news item : 
 
 It is rumored that the Compte de la Plage, after being twice 
 married, is contemplating a third matrimonial venture; this 
 time with the rich widow of a lamented New York banker, to 
 whom he is said to be engaged. It will doubtless be a union 
 of congenial spirits. Both have survived mates who chose 
 suicide as an alternative, and it will be interesting to see which 
 of these two survives the other. 
 
 250
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 THE CONSOLIDATION 
 
 During the eight months that have passed since the 
 arrival of Belle and little Constance at Colorado 
 Springs not even a ripple of discord has crossed the 
 harmony of the happy family quartette, to which Mr. 
 Sheldon might also be added, since outside of business 
 hours he has usually been counted as one of the family 
 group. 
 
 The responsibilities of the household were at first 
 shared equally between Kitty and Belle, though latterly 
 Kitty s time and thoughts have been so much occu 
 pied by Mr. Sheldon that her sister assumed almost 
 entire charge of the servants. "Were it not for 
 Constance and myself," she once said to Kitty, "your 
 poor uncle would be sadly neglected." Kitty, who 
 made no reply, wondered why her sister was always so 
 contented to remain at home when she was out 
 driving or riding on pleasant afternoons and evenings. 
 
 Blue-eyed, rosy-cheeked, animated little Constance 
 has from the day of her arrival been the household 
 idol, especially of Mr. Farnsworth. Once when talk 
 ing with her mother about him she said, 
 
 "Mamma, I like him wouldn t it be lovely if he 
 were my very own papa?" Her mother turned and 
 looked away to hide her embarrassment. "Poor 
 
 251
 
 CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR 
 
 mamma-dear, don t feel bad I think he likes you, 
 too," she said comfortingly. 
 
 One evening Belle and Kitty sat chatting in the 
 music room while Mr. Farnsworth and Mr. Sheldon 
 had gone to enjoy their after-dinner cigars. 
 
 "Kitty," said Belle, "do you remember the time, 
 before I came here, when William refused to go into 
 the mining consolidation on your account?" 
 
 "Yes, Belle what about it?" 
 
 "Well, of course he has already told you that the 
 matter has been taken up again, and the consolidation 
 is to take place." 
 
 "Yes, he just told me this afternoon ; and uncle is to 
 be president of the Consolidated Mining Company." 
 
 "Yes," said Belle, "and more than that, he s going 
 to New York to be in charge of the head office, not 
 as Horace Alexander, but as Jefferson Farnsworth." 
 
 "To New York! Why, Belle, how did you learn all 
 this?" 
 
 "While you were so occupied with William out in 
 the grove this afternoon he told me all about it," 
 she said gleefully. "He s going back to live under his 
 own name, and the newspapers in printing the account 
 of his return will explain that he was erroneously 
 reported to have committed suicide." 
 
 "William didn t tell me about this!" exclaimed 
 Kitty in great surprise. 
 
 "No, dear ; and there s also another little consolida- 
 
 252
 
 THE CONSOLIDATION 
 
 tion he didn t tell you about," she said with a roguish 
 sparkle in her eye. You know Constance is very fond 
 of your uncle ; a- n - d " 
 
 Her speech was cut short by the startled expression 
 in Kitty s face as she stared with wide open eyes and 
 parted lips. 
 
 "Why, Belle! you unmitigated rogue! That s why 
 you ve been so happy of late, and so contented to stay 
 at home. And to think that this affair has been going 
 on here for months right under my very nose, and I 
 was too blind to see it ! Why, the idea of your coming 
 here and robbing me of my uncle !" 
 
 "My dearest Kitty, you must remember that you 
 have no eyes at all except for William ; and I might 
 have literally carried away your uncle without your 
 missing him. You know I never undertook to rob 
 you of him until you openly confessed having stolen 
 my old sweetheart. You needn t let the fear of your 
 dear uncle s lonesomeness stand in the way of your hap 
 piness any longer. And if you haven t set your wedding 
 day pretty near at hand we ll be off on our honeymoon 
 ahead of you, and you ll be the lonesome one." 
 
 With an exclamation of joy, Kitty sprang to her feet 
 and throwing her arms about Belle s neck she hugged 
 and kissed her repeatedly. At this juncture the two 
 men appeared at the door just in time to hear Kitty 
 exclaim, - 
 
 "Belle ! Belle ! Oh, Belle ! I m so happy !" 
 
 253
 
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