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The San Francisco call. (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1895-1913, September 13, 1903, Image 13

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THE SUNDAY CAUU
Monty gave way to tho depression that
*m bearing down upon him; It wa» tha
hardest task of hia Ufa to go on with his
schema In tha face of opposition. He
knew that every man and woman on
board was asmlnst the proposition, for his
sake at least, and It was difficult to be
arbitrary under tha circumstances. Pur-'
posely ho avoided Peggy all forenoon. His
single (lance- at her fa.ee In the salon was
enough to disturb him Immeasurably.
The spirits of tho crowd were subdued.
Tha North Capo had charms, but tha
proclamation concerning It had been too
sadden— had reversed too quickly the gen
eral expectation and desire. Many of the
guests had plans at home for August and
even those who had none were satiated
with excitement During tha morning they
gathered in little- knots to discuss the sit
uation. They were all generous and each
one was sure that ha could cruise indefl
citely. if on Montys account tha now voy
?*,! ?.*?*. n . Ot ? Ut ot **• nation. They
felt It their duty to take a desperate
stand.
The half-hearted little gatherings re
solved themselves into ominous groups
and in the end there waa a call for a gen
ial meeting la tha main cabin. C^pUm
Perry, the first mate* and tha chief en
gineer -were included la tha call. but
Montgomery Brewster was not to ba ad
mitted. Joe Bragdon loyally agreed to
Keep him engaged elsewhere while the
xneetliic was in progress. The doors were
1 . * Od a Slance assured the
chairman of the meeting. Dan DeMllle,
that no member of tha party was miss-
Ing save the devoted Bragdon. Captain
Perry was plainly nervous and disturbed.
The others were the victims of a sup
pressed energy that presaged subsequent
eruptions.
An hour later the meeting broke up and
the oonsplrators made their way to the
deck. It wma a strange fact that no one
¦went alone. They were in groups of three
and four and the mystery that hung
about them was almost perceptible. Not
one was willing to faoe the excited, buoy
ant Brewster without help: they found
strength and security in companionship.
P*g*y was the one rebel against the
conspiracy, and yet she knew that the
others were justified In the step they pro
posed to take. She reluctantly Joined
them In tha end. but felt that she was
the darkest traitor in the crowd. Forget
ting her own distress over the way in
which Monty 'was squandering his for
tune, she stood out the one defender of
his rights until the end and then admitted
tearfully to Mrs. DeMllle that she had
been "quite unreasonable" In doing so.
Alone In ber stateroom after signing the
agreement, she wondered what be would
tfr^nv of her. She owed him so much that
she at least should have stood by him.
She felt that he would be conscious of
this. How could she have turned against
him? He would not understand— of
course, he would never understand. And
he would hate her with the others— more
than the others. It was all a wretched
muddle and she could not see her way out
of it
Itonty found his guests very difficult
They listened to his plans with but little
Interest and he could not but see that
they were uncomfortable. The situation
¦was new to their experience, and th»»v
were under a strain. "They mope around
like a lot of pouting boys and girls." he
growled to himself. "But It's the North
Cape now in spite of everything, I don't
care If tha whole crowd deserts me, my
mind is ' made up."
Try as he would.*h« could not see Peggy
alone. He had much that he wanted to
say to ber and he hungered for the con
solation her approval would bring him,
but she clung to Pettlnglll with a ten
acity that was discouraging. The old
feeling of Jealousy that was connected
with Como again disturbed him.
"She thinks that I am & hopeless, brain
less idiot" he said to himself. "And I
don't blame her. either."
Just before nightfall he noticed that
his friends were assembling; in the bow.
As he started to Join the group "Sub
way" Smith and DeMille advanced to
meet him. Some of the others were smil
lcg a little sheepishly, but the two men
were pictures of solemnity and decision.
"Monty." said DeMllle steadily, "we
have been conspiring against you and
have decided that we sail for New York
to-morrow morning;."
Breweter stopped short and the expres
sion on his face was one they never could
forget. Bewilderment, uncertainty and
pain succeeded each other like flashes of
light Not a word was spoken for sev
eral seconds. The red of humiliation
slowly mounted to his cheeks, while In
his eyas wavered the look of one who
has bean hunted down.
"You have •decided?" he asked lifelessly,
and more than one heart went out in
pity to him.
"We hated to do it, Monty, but for your
own sake there was no otner wajj," said
"Subway" Smith quickly. "We took a
vote and there wasn't a dissenting voice."
"It is a plain case of mutiny, I take it,"
¦aid Monty, utterly alone and heart sick.
"It Isn't necessary to tell you why we
have taken this step." said DeMllle. "It
is heart breaking to oppose you at this
stage of the game. You've been the best
•ver and—"
"Cut that," cried Monty, and his confi
dence in himself was fast returning. "This
Is no time to throw bouquets."
"We like you. Brewster," Mr. Valen
tine came to the chairman's assistance
because the others had looked at him so
appealingly. "We like you so well that
we can't take the responsibility for your
extravagance. It would disgrace us all."
"That «ida of the matter was never
mentioned." cried Peggy indignantly, and
then added with a catch in her roice,
••We thought only of you."
"I appreciate your motives and I am
grateful to you," eaid Monty. "I am
jnoT9 sorry than I can tell you that the
cruise must ead in this way, but I, too,
have decided. The yacht will take you
to some solnt where you can catch a
eteamer to New York. I ehall secure pas
sage for the entire party and very
soon you will be at home. Captain
Perry, will you oblige me by mak
ing at once for any port that my guests
may agree upon?" He was turning away
deliberately when "Subway" Smith de
tained him.
"What do you mean by getting a
steamer to New York? Isn't the Flitter
rood enough?" he asked.
"The Flitter la not going to New York
Just now," answered Brewster firmly,
"notwithstanding your ultimatum. She
la going to take me to the North Cape."
CHAPTER XXVII.
"We have found a solution of our diffi
culties," said DeMllle at an executive
meeting of the conspirators a little later,
and his manner was so Jubilant
that every one became hopeful.
••It Is desperate, but I think it will
be effective. Monty has given us the
privilege of leaving the yacht at any port
where we can take a steamer to New
Tork. Now. my suggestion la that we se
lect the most convenient place for all of
vs. and obviously there la nothing quite
•o convenient as Boston."
"Dan DeMllle, you are quite foolish,"
cried his wife. "Who ever conceived such
a ridiculous idea?"
"Captain Perry has his Instructions,"
continued DeMille. turning to the captain.
"Are we not acting along the lines marked
out by Brewster himself?"
"I will sail for Boston If you cay tha
word," eald the thoughtful captain. "But
he is sure to countermand such an order."
"He won't be abla to, captain," cried
"Subway" Smith, who had for some time
been eager to Join in tha conversation.
"This is a genuine, dyed-ln-the-wool mu
tiny, and we expect to cary out the orig
inal plan, which was to put Mr. Brewster
in irons until we ara safe from all oppo
sition."
"Ha is my friend, Mr. Smith, and at
least it Is my duty to protect him from
any indignity," Bald the captain, atiffiy.
"You make for Boston, my dear cap
tain, and we'll do the rest," said DeMllle.
"Mr. Brewster can't countermand your
orders unless be sees you in person.
We'll sea to it that ha has no chance to
talk to you until we ara in sight of Bos
ton harbor."
Tha captain looked doubtful and shook
his bead as he walked away. At heart
he was with the mutineers and hi? mind
was made up to assist them as long as
it was possible to do so without violating
his obligations to Brewster. He felt guil
ty, however, in surreptitiously giving tne
order to clear for Boston at daybreak.
The chief officers were let into the secret,
but tha sailors were kept In darkness re
garding the destination of tho Flitter.
Montgomery Brewster's guests were im
mensely pleased with the scheme, al
though they were dubious about the out
come. Mrs. Dan regretted her hasty com
ment on tho plan and entered into tho
plot with eagerness. In accordance with
plans decided upon by the mutineers,
Monty's stateroom door was guarded
through the night by two of the men.
For three days and two nights the
Flitter steamed westward into the At
lantic, with her temporary owner locked
in his stateroom. The confinement was
Irksome, but he rather liked the sensa
tion of being Interested In something be
sides money. He frequently laughed to
himself over the absurdity of the situa
tion. His enemies were friends, true and
devoted; his Jailers were relentless, but
they were considerate. The original or
der that be should be guarded by one
man was violated on the first day. There
were times when his guard numbered at
least ten persons and some of them
served tea and begged him to listen to
reason.
"It is difficult not to listen," he said
fiercely. "It's like holding a man down
and then asking him to be quiet But
my time is coming." ¦
"Revenge will be his!" exclaimed Mrs.
Dan. tragically.
"You might have your term shortened
on account of good conduct if you would
only behave," suggested Peggy, whose
reserve was beginning to shorten. "Please
be good and give in."
"I haven't been* happier during
the whole cruise," said Mon
ty. "On deck I wouldn't
be noticed, but here I am quite the
whole thing. Besides I can , get out
whenever I feel like it."
"I have a thousand dollars which says
you can't" Bald DeMllle, and Monty
snapped him up so eagerly that he
added, "that you can't get out of your
own accord."
Monty acceded to the condition and
offered odds on the proposition to the
others, but there were no takers.
"That settles it," he smiled grimly to
himself. "I can make a thousand dol
lars by staying here and I can't afford
to escape."
On the third day of Monty's Imprison
ment the Flitter began to roll heavily.
At first he gloated over the discomfort
of his guards who obviously did not like
to stay below. "Subway" Smith and
Bragdon were on duty and neither was
famous as a good sailor. When Monty
lighted bis pipe there was consternation
and "Subway" rushed on deck.
"You are a brave man, Joe," Monty
said to the other and blew a cloud of
smoke In his direction. "I knew you
would stick to your post. You wouldn't
leave it even if the ship should go
down."
Bragdon had reached the stage where
he dared not speak and was busying
himself trying to "breathe with the
motion of the boat." as he had called it.
"By Gad," continued Monty, relent-
"His Jailers Were Relentless, but
They Were Considerate." .
lessly. "This smoke Is getting thick.
Some of this toilet -water might help
if I sprinkled it about"
One whiff of the sweet-smelling
cologne waa enough for Bragdon and
he bolted up the companionway, leaving
the stateroom door wide open and the
prisoner free to go wnere he pleased.
Monty's first Impulse waa to follow, but
he checked himself on the threshold.
"Damn that bet with DeMille," he
said to himself, and added aloud to the
fleeing guard, "The key, Joe, I dare
you to come back and get It!"
But Bragdon was beyond recall and
Monty locked the door on the inside and
passed the key through the ventilator.
On deck a small part of the company
braved the spray in tne lee of the deck
house, but the others had long since
gone below. The boat was pitching fur
iously In the ugliest sea it had encount
ered, and there was anxiety underneath
Captain Perry's mask of unconcern. De-
Mille and Dr. Lotless talked in the
eenseleBs way men have when they try I
to conceal their nervousness. But the \
women did not respond; they were in no ¦
mood for conversation.
Only one of them waa quite oblivious .
to personal discomfort and' danger. ,
Peggy Gray was thinking of the prison- ,
er below. In a reflection of bar own ,
terror she pictured him crouching in tha
little stateroom, like n doomed criminal :
awaiting execution, alone, neglected, for- '
gotten, unpltled. At first she pleaOed i
with the man for his release, but they '
insisted upon waiting in the hope that
a aoaro might bring him to his senses.
Peggy saw that no help was to be se
cured from the other women, much as
they might care for Brewster's peace
of mind and safety. Her. heart wal
bitter toward every one responsible for
the situation, and there was dark re
bellion in her bouL it culminated finally
in a resolve to release Monty Brewster
at any cost.
With difficulty she made her way to
the etateroom door, clinging to sup
ports at times and then plunging vio
lently away from them. For some min
utea aha listened, frantically clutching
Brewster's door and the wall-ralL There
waa no guard, atid the tumult of the
sea drowned every sound within. Her
imagination ran riot when her repeated
calls were not answered.
"Monty, Monty," she cried, pounding
wildly on the door.
"Who is it? What is the. trouble T'
came in muffled tones from within, and
Peggy breathed a prayer of thanks.
Just then she discovered the key which
Monty had dropped and quickly opened
the door, expecting to nnd him cowering
with fear. But the picture was differ
ent The prisoner was seated on the
divan, propped up with many pillows
and reading with the aid of an electric
light "The Intrusions of Peggy."
CHAPTER XXVIII.
A CATASTROPHE.
"Oh!" was Peggy's only exclamation,
and there was a shadow of disappoint
ment in her eyes.
"Come in, Peggy, and I'll read aloud,"
was Monty's cheerful greeting as he Btood
before her.
"No; I must go," said Peggy, confused
ly. I thought you might be nervous
about the storm— and "
"And you came to let me out?" Monty
had never been bo happy.
"Yes; and I don't care what the others
say. I thought you were suffering "
But at that moment the boat gave a lurch
which threw her across the threshold in
to Monty's arms. They crashed against
the wall and he held her a moment and
forgot the storm. When she drew away
from him she showed him the open door
and freedom. She could not speak.
"Where are the othersT" he asked,
bracing himself in the doorway.
"Oh, Monty," she cried, "we must not
go to them. They will think me a traitor."
"Why were you a traitor, Peggy?" he
demanded, turning toward her suddenly.
"Oh — oh, because It seemed so cruel to
keep you locked up through the storm,",
she answered, blushing.
"And there was no other reason?" he
persisted.
"Don't, please don't!" she cried, piteous
ly, and he misunderstood her emotion. It
waa clear that she was merely sorry for
him.
"Never mind, Peggy; It's all right. You
"You'll Have to Give These People
a Good Time During the Week."-
stood by me and I'll stand by you. Come
on; we'll face the mob and I'll do the
fighting."
Together they made their way Into the
presence of the mutineers, who were
crowded into the main cabin.
"Well, here's a conspiracy," cried Dan
De Mille, but there was no anger in his
voice. "How did you escape? I was just
thinking of unlocking your door, Monty,
but the key seemed to be missing."
Peggy displayed it triumphantly.
"By Joye," cried Dan. "This is rank
treachery. Who was on guard?"
A steward rushing through the cabin at
this moment in answer to frantic calls
from Bragdon furnished an eloquent re
ply to the question.
"It was simple," eaid Monty. "The
guards deserted their post and left the
key behind."
"Then it is up to me to pay you a thou
sand dollars."
"Not at all, "protested Monty, taken
aback. "I did not escape of my own ac
cord. I had help. The money is yours.
And now that I am free," he added,
quietly, " iet me say that this boat does
not go to Boston."
"Just what I expected," said' Vander
pool. ;
"She's going straight to New York!"
declared Monty. The words were hardly
uttered when a heavy sea sent him
sprawling across the cabin, and he con
cluded, "or to the bottom."
"Not so bad as that," said Captain
Perry, whose entrance ,had been some
what hastened by the lurch of the boat.
"But until this blows over I must keep
you below." He laughed, birt he saw they
were not deceived. "The seas are pretty
heavy and the decks are being holystoned
for rtothlng, but I wouldn't like to have
any one washed overboard by mistake."
The hatches were battened down, and
It was a sorry company that tried to
while away the evening in the main
cabin. Monty's chaffing about the ad
vantages "of the | North Cape over the
stormy Atlantic was not calculated to
raise the drooping spirits, and it was very
early when he' and his shattered guests
turned in. There was little sleep on board
the Flitter that night Even If it had
been easy to forget the danger, the creak
ing of tha ship and the incessant roar of
tha water were enough for wakef ulness.
With each lurch of the boat It seamed
more incredible that it could endure. It
was such a mite of a thing to meet so
furious an attack. As it rose on the wave
to pausa In terror on its crest before sink
ing shivering into the trough it made
tha breath coma short and the heart stand
still. Through the night the fragile little
craft fought its lonely way, bravely ig
noring its own weakness and the Infinite
strength of ita enemy. To the captain,
lashed to the bridge, there were hours of
grave anxiety— hours when he feared each
wave as it approached, ¦ and wondered
what new damage it had done as It re
coded. As the wind increased toward
morning ha felt a sickening certainty that
the brave little boat was beaten. Some
how she seemed to lose courage, to waver
a bit and almost give up the fight. He
watched her miserably as the dismal
dawn came up out of the sea. Yet It was
not until 7 o'clock that the crash came,
which ihook the pasengera out of their
berths and filled them with shivering
terror. The whirling of the broken
shaft seemed to consume the ship. In
every cabin it spoke with horrible vivid
ness of disaster. The clamor of voices
and the rush of many feet, which fol
lowed, meant but one thing. Almost in
stantly the machinery was stopped— an
ominous silence in the midst of the dull
roar of the water and the cry of the
the sea."
It was a terrified crowd that quickly
gathered in the main cabin, but it was a
brave one. There were no cries and few
tears. They expected anything and were
ready for the worst, but they would not
show the white feather. It was Mrs. Dan
who broke the tension. "I made sure of
my pearls," she said; "I thought they
would be appreciated at the bottom of
the sea."
Brewster came upon their laughter. "I
like your nerve, people," he exclaimed,
"you are all right. It 'won't be so bad
now. The wind has dropped."
Toward night the worst was over. The
sea had gone down and the hatches were
opened for a while to admit air, though
it was still too rough to venture out. The
next morning was bright and clear. When
the company gathered on deck the havoc
created by the storm was .apparent. Two
"The Three Days in- England Were
Marked by Unparalleled
Extravagance."
of the boats had been completely carried
away and the launch was rendered use
less by a large hole in the stern.
"You jlon't mean to say that we will
drift about until the repairs can be
made?" asked Mrs. Dan in alarm. .
"We are three hundred miles off the
course already," explained Monty? "and
it will be pretty slow' traveling under
sail."
It was decided to make for the Canary
Islands, where repairs could be made and
the voyage resumed. But where the
wind had raged a few days before, it had
now disappeared altogether, and for a
week the Flitter tossed about absolute
ly unable to make headway. The first of
August had arrived and Monty himself
was beginning to be nervous. With the
fatal day not quite two months away,
things began to look serious. Over one
hundred thousand dollars would remain
after he had settled the expenses of the
cruise, and he was helplessly drifting in
mld-ccean. Even if the necessary repairs
could be made promptly, it would take the*
Flitter fourteen days to sail from the
Canaries to New York. Figure as hard
as he could he saw no way out of the
unfortunate situation. Two days more
elapsed and still no sign of a breeze. He
made sure ttyat September 23d would find
him still drifting and still In possession of
one hundred thousand superfluous dollars.
At the end of ten days the yacht had
progressed but two hundred miles and
Monty was beginning to plan the rest of
his existence on a capital of $100,000. He
had given up all hope of the Sedgwick
legacy and was trying to be resigned to
his fate, when a tramp steamer was sud
denly sighted. Brewster ordered the
man on watch to fly a flag of distress.
Then he reported to the captain and told
what he had done. With a bound the
captain rushed on deck and tore the flag
from the sailor's hand.
"That was my order," said Monty, net
tled at the captain's manner.
'"You want them to get a line on us and
claim salvage, do you?"
"What do you mean?"
"If they get a line on us in response to
that flag they will claim the entire value
of the shio as salvage. You want to
spend another $200,000 on this boat?'
"I didn't understand," said Monty,
sheepishly. "But for God's sake, fix It up
somehow. Can't they tow us? I'll pay
for it^' .
Communication was slow, but after an
apparently endless amount of signaling
the captain finally announced that the
freight steamer was bound for South
ampton and would tow the Flitter to that
point for a price.
"Back o Southampton!" groaned
Monty. "That means months before we
get back to New York."
"He says he can get us to Southampton
In ten days," interrupted the captain.
"I can do it! I can do it!" he cried, 'to
the consternation of his guests, who won
dered if his mind were affected. "If he tl
land us in Southampton by the 27th I'll
pay him up to one hundred thousand dol
lars."
After what seemed an age to Monty, the
Flitter, in tow of the freighter Glencoe,
arrived at Southampton. The captain of
the freight boat was a thrifty Scotchman
whose ship was traveling with a light
cargo, and ha was not. therefore, averse
to taking on a tow, But the thought of
salvage had caused him to ask a high
price for the service, and Monty, after a
futile attempt at bargaining, had agreed.
The price was fifty thousand dollars, and
the young man believed more than ever
that everything was ruled by a wise
Providence, which had not deserted him.
His guests were heartsick when they
heard the figure, but were an happy as
Monty at the prospect of reaching land
again.
The Glencoe made several stops before
Southampton was finally reached on the
28th of August, but when the English
coast was sighted every one was too eager
to go ashore to begrudge tha extra day.
Dan DeMllle asked the entire party to be
come his guests for a week's shooting trip
in Scotland, but Monty vetoed the plan
in tha most decided manner.
"We sail for New York on the fastest
boat," said Monty, and hurried off to
learn the sailings and book his party. The
first boat was to sail on the 30th and he
could only secure accommodations for
twelve of- his guests. The rest were
obliged to follow a week later. This was
readily agreed to and Bragdon was left
to see to th«> necessary repairs op the
Flitter and arrange for her homeward
"The Division of the Party Was
Tactfully Arranged by Mrs.
de Mille."
voyage. Monty gave Bragdon fifteen
thousand dollars for this purpose and ex
tracted a solemn promise that the entire
amount would be used.
"But it won't cost half of this," protest
ed Bragdon.
"You will have to give these people a
good time during the week and— well— you
have promired that I shall never see an
other penny of it. Some day you'll know
why I do this," and Monty felt easier
when -his friend agreed to abide by his
wishes.
He discharged the Flltter's crew, with
five ¦ months' pay and the reward prom
ised on the night of Peggy's rescue, which
was productive of touching emotions.
Captain Perry and his officers never for
got the farewell of the prodigal, nor could
they hide the regret that marked their
weather-beaten faces.
Plans to dispose of his household goods
and the balance of his cash in the short
time that would be left after he arrived
in New York occupied Monty's attention,
and most men would have given up the
scheme as hopeless. But he did not de
spair. He was still game, and he pre
pared for the final plunge with grim de
termination.- • i
"There should have been a clause in
Jones' conditions about 'weather nermit-
With the condemnation of his friends
ringing in his troubled brain, with the
sneers of acquaintances to distress his
pride, with the jibes of the comic papers
to torture him remorselessly, Brewster
was fast becoming the most miserable
man in" New York. Friends of former
days gave him the cut direct, clubmen
ignored him or scorned him openly, wom
en chilled him with the lcinesa of un
spoken , reproof, and all the world hung
with shadows. The doggedness of de
spair kept him up, but the strain that
pulled down on him was so relentless that
the ntruggle> was losing its equality. Ha
had not expected such a home coming.
Compared with his former self Monty
was now almost a physical wreck, hag
gard, thin and defiant, a shadow of the
once debonair young New Yorker.* an ob
ject of pity and scorn. Ashamed and de
epairlng. he had almost lacked the cour
age to face Mrs. Gray. The consolation
he once gained through her he now de
nied himself and his suffering, peculiar
as it was, was very real. In absolute
recklcssnees he gave dinner af Jer dinner,
party after party, all on a most lavish
scale, many of his guests laughed at him
openly while they enjoyed his hospitality.
The real friends remonstrated, pleaded,
did everything within their power to
check his awful rush to poverty, but with
out success; he was not to be stopped.
At last the furniture began to go, then
the plate, then all the priceless bric-a
brac. Piece by piece it disappeared until
the apartments were empty and he had
squandered almost all of the $40,350 aris
ing from the sales. The servants were
paid off, the apartments relinquished, and
he was beginning to know what it meant
to be "on his uppers." At the banks be
ascertained that the interest on his
moneys amounted to $19,140 86. A week
before the 23d of September, the whole
million was gone, including the amounts
won in lumber and fuel and other luck
less enterprises. He still had about $17.
000 of his Interest money in the banks, but
he had a billion pangs in his heart— the
interest on his improvidence.
He found some delight in the discovery
that the servants had. robbed him of not
les* than $3500 worth of his belongings,
including the Christmas presents that he
in honor could not have sold. His only
encouragement came from Grant and
Ripley, the lawyers. They Inspired con
fidence in his lagging brain by urging
him on to the end, promising brightness
thereafter. Swearengen Jones was as
mute as the mountains in which he lived.
There was no word from him, there was
no assurance that he would approve of
what had been done to obliterate Edwin
Peter Brewater's legacy.
CHAPTER XXX.
"Monty, you are breaking my heart,"
was the first and only appeal Mrs. Gray
ever made to him. It was two days be
fore the twenty-third and it did not come
until after the "second-hand store" men
had urlven away from her door with the
bulk of his clothing in their wagon. She
and Peggy- had seen little of Brewster,
and nls nervous restlessness alarmed
them. His return was the talk of the
town. Men tried to shun him, but he per
sistently wasted some portion of his for
tune on his unwilling' subjects. When ha
gave $5000 in cash to a Home for News
boys, even his friends Jumped to the con
clusion that he was mad. It was his only
gL. to charity and he excused his motive
in giving at this time by recalling Sedg
wick'«« injunction to "give sparingly to
charity." Everything was gone from his
thoughts but the overpowering eagerness
to get rid of a few troublesome thou
sands. He felt like an outcast, a pariah,
a hated object that infected every
one with whom he came in contact.
Sleep was almost Impossible, eating
was a farce; he gave elaborate suppers
which he did not touch. Already his best
friends were discussing the advisability
of putting him in a sanitarium where his
mind might be preserved. His case was
looked upon as peculiar in the history of
mankind; no writer could find a parallel,
no one could Imagine a comparison.
Mrs. Gray met him in the hallway of
her home as he was nervously pocketing
the $60 he had received in payment for his
clothes. Her face was like that of a ghost.
He tried to answer her reproof, but the
words would not come, and he fled to his
room, locking the door after him. Ho
ting,' " he said to himself. "A ship
wrecked mariner should not be expected
to sDend a million dollars."
The division of the party for the two
sailings was tactfully arranged by Mrs.
DeMllle. The Valentines chaperoned the
"second table," as "Subway" Smith called
those who were to take the later boat,
and she herself look.ed after the first lot.
Peggy Gray and Monty Brewster were in
the DeMille party. The three days in
England were marked by unparalleled ex
travagance on Monty's part. One of
the local hotels was subsidize©, for a
week, although the party only stayed
for luncheon, and the Cecil in London
was a ealner by several thousand dol
lars for the brief stop there. It was a
careworn little band that took Monty's
special train for Southampton and em
barked two days later. The "rest cure '
that followed was welcome to all of them
and Brewster was especially glad that
his race was almost run.
Four days out from New York, then
three days, then two days, and then
Brewster began to feel the beginning of
the final whirlwind in profligacy clouding
him oppressively, ominously, unkindly.
Down in his stateroom he drew new es
timates, new calculations, and tried to
balance the old ones so that they ap
peared in the light most favorable to his
designs. Going over the statistics care
fully, he estimated that the cruise, includ
ing repairs and the return of the yacht
to New York, would cost him J210.000 in
round figures. One hundred and thirty
three days marked the length of the voy
age when he reckoned by time and, as
near as he could get at it, the expense
averaged $15S0 a day. According to the
contract, he was to pay for the yacht,
exclusive of the cuisine and personal ser
vice. And he had found It simple enough
to spend the remaining $1080. There were
days, of course, when fully JoOOO disap
peared, and there were others on which
he spent less than $1000. but the average
was secure. Taking everything into con
sideration, Brewster found that his for
tune had dwindled to a few paltry thou
sands in addition to the proceeds which
would come to him from the sale of his
furniture. On the whole he was satlis
fied.
Immediately after the landing Brewster
and Gardner was busy with the details
of settlement. After clearing up all of
the obligations arising from the cruisa
they felt the appropriateness of reflec
tion. It was a difficult moment — a mo
ment when undelivered reproofs were in
the air. But Gardner seemed much the
more melancholy of the two.
Piles of newspapers lay scattered about
the floor of the room in which they sat.
Every one of them contained sensational
stories of the prodigal s trip, with pic
tures, incidents and predictions. Monty
was pained, humiliated and resentful, but
he was honest enough to admit the Jus
tification of much that was said of him.
was at work tnere on me transaction that
was to record the total disappearance of
Edwin Brewster's million— his final report
to Swearengen Jones, executor of James
Sedgwick's will. On the floor -were bun
dles of packages, carefully wrapped and
tied, and on the table was the long sheet
of white paper on which the report was
being: drawn. The packages contained re
ceipts — thousands upon thousands of them
— for the dollars he had spent In less than
a year. They were there for the inspec
tion of Swcarengen Jones, faithfully and
honorably kept— as if the old "Westerner
would go ever in detail the countless doc
uments.
He had. the accounts balanced up to the
hour. On the long sheet lay the record of
his ruthlessness, the epitaph of a million.
In his pocket was exactly |79 08. This was
to last him for less than forty-eight hours
and— then it would go to join the rest. It
was his plan to visit Grant & RIpley on
the afternoon of the 22d and to read the
report to them in anticipation of the
meeting with Jones on the day following.
Just before noon, after his encounter
with Mrs. Gray, he came down stairs and
boldly, for the first time in days, sought
out Peggy. There was the old smile in
his eyes and the old heartiness in hla
voice when he came upon her in the li
brary. She was not reading. Books,
pleasures and all the joys of life had fled
from her. mind, and she thought only of
the disaster that was coming to the boy
she had always loved. His heart smote
him as he looked into the deep, somber,
frightened eyes, running over with love
and fear for him.
"Peggy, do you think I'm worth any
thing more from your mother? Do you
think she will ask me to live here any
longer?" he asked, steadily, taking her
hand in his. Hers was cold, his as hot as
fire. "You know what you said away off
yonder somewhere, that she'd let me live
here if I deserved it. I am a pauper.
Peggy, and I'm afraid I'll — I may have to
get down to drudgery again. Will she
turn me out? You know I must have
somewhere to live. Shall It be the poor
house? Do you remember saying one day
that I'd end in the poorhouse?"
She was looking into his eyes, dreading
what might be seen In them. But there
was no gleam of insanity there, there was
no fever; instead there was the quiet
smile of the man who Is satisfied with
himself and the world. His voice bore
traces of emotion, but It was the voice of
one who has perfect control of his wits.
"Is it all— gone, Monty?" she asked, al
most in a whisper.
"Here is the residue of my estate," he
said, opening his purse with steady fin
gers. "I'm back to where I left off a
year ago. The million Is gone and my
wings are clipped." Her face was white,
her heart was In the clutch of ice. How
could he be so calm about it when for
him. she was suffering such agony? Twice
she started to speak, but her voice failed
her. She turned slowly and walked to
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