Newspaper Page Text
Brewster's
Millions
Copyright 1904,
by Herbert S. Stone
91 Company
PeggJ" Gray was in despair over Mon
ty's attitude. Sbe bad become con
vinced that behind his pride he was
cherishing a secret longing for Bar
bara. Yet she could not see how the
walls were to be broken down if he
maintained this icy reserve. Sbe was
sure that tbe masterful toue was the
one to win with a girl like that, but
evidently Monty would not accept ad
vice. That he was mistaken about Bar
bara's feeling she did not doubt for a
moment, and she saw things going
hopelessly wrong for want of a word.
There were times when she let herself
dream of possibilities, but they always
ended by seeming too impossible. She
cared too much to make the attainment
of ber vision seem simple. She cared
too much to be sure of anything.
At moments she fancied that she
might say a word to Miss Drew which
would straighten things out. but there
was something about ber which held
her off. Even now that they were
thrown together more or less she could
not get beyond a certain barrier. It
was not until a sunny day when slie
had accepted Barbara's invitation to
drive that things seemed to go more
easily. For the first time sbe felt the
charm of the girl, and for the first time
Barbara seemed unreservedly friendly.
It was a quiet drive tbey were taking
through the woods and out along the
beach, and somehow in tbe open air
things simplified themselves. Finally
in the softness and tbe idle warmth
even an allusion to Monty, whose name
usually meant an embarrassing change
of subject, begnu to seem possible. It
was inevitable that Peggy shonld bring
it in, for with her a question of tact
was never allowed to dominate when
things of moment were at stake. Sbe
cowered before tbe plunge, but she
took it unafraid.
"The doctor says Monty may go out
driving tomorrow," sbe began. "Isn't
that fine?"
Barbara's only response was to touch
her pony a little too sharply with the
whip. Peggy went on as if uncon
scious of the challenge.
"He has been bored to death, poor
fellow, in the house all this time, and"—
"Miss Gray, please do not mention
Mr. Brewster's name to me again," in
terrupted Barbara, with a contraction
of the eyebrows. But Peggy was seized
with a spirit of defiance and plunged
recklessly on.
"What is tbe use, Miss Drew, of tak
ing en attitude like that? I know tbe
situation pretty well, and I can't be
lieve that either Monty or you have lost
in a week a feeling that was so deep
seated. I know Monty much too well
to think that be would change so eas
ily." Peggy still lived largely in ber
ideals. "And you are too fine a thing
not to have suffered under this misun
derstanding. It seems as if a very
small word would set yoo both
straight."
Barbara drew herself up and kept
ber eyes on the road, which lay white
and gleaming in the sun. "I have not
the lenst desire to be set straight."
And she was never more serious.
"But it was only a few weeks ago
that yon were engaged."
*T am sorry," answered Barbara,
"that it should have been talked about
so much. Mr. Brewster did ask me to
marry him, but I never accepted. In
fact. It was only his persistence that
made me consider the matter at nil. I
did think about it. I confess that I
rather liked him. But it was not long
before I found him out."
"What do you mean?" And there was
a flash In Peggy's eyes. "What has he
done?"
"To my certain knowledge be has
spent more than $400,000 since last
September. That is something, is it
not?" Miss Drew said in her slow, cool
voice, and even Peggy's loyalty admit
ted some Justification in the criticism.
"Generosity has ceased to be a vir
tue, then?" she asked coldly.
"Generosity:" exclaimed Barbara
sharply. "It's sheer idiocy. Haven't
you heard the people are say
ing? Tbey are calling him a fool, and
in the clubs they are betting that he
will be a pauper within a year."
"Yet they , charitably help him to
spend his money, and I have noticed
that even worldly mammas find him
eligible." Tie comment was not with
out its caustic side.
"That wajs months ago, my dear,"
protested Barbara calmly. "When be
spoke to rae he told me it would be
impossible; for him to marry within a
year. And don't you see that a year
may makJ bim an abject beggar?"
"Naturally anything is preferable to
a beggar.'r came in Peggy's clear, soft
voice. I
Barbara' hesitated only a moment.
"Well, tou must admit, Miss Gray,
that it shi >ws a shameful lack of char
acter. H( w could any girl be happy
with a man like that? And, after all.
By GEORGE BARR N'CUTCHEON
(RICHARD GREAVES)
one must look out for one's own fate."
"Undoubtedly," replied Peggy, but
many thoughts were dashing through
her brain.
"Shall we turn back to the cottage?"
she said after an awkward silence.
"You certainly don't approve of Mr.
Brewster's conduct?" Barbara did not
like to be placed in the wrong and felt
that she must endeavow to justify her
self. "He is the most reckless of
spendthrifts, we know, and he piOb
ably indulges in even less respectable
excitement."
Peggy was not tall, but sbe carried
ber head at this moment as though she
were in the habit of looking down on
the world.
"Aren't you going a little too far,
Miss Drew?" she asked placidly.
"It Is not only New York that laughs
over his Quixotic transactions," Bar
bara persisted. "Mr. Hampton, our
guest from Chicago, says the stories
are worse out there than they are in
the east."
"It is a pity that Monty's illness
should have made him so weak," said
Peggy quietly as they turned in
through the great iron gates, and Bar
bara was not slow to see the point.
BREWSTER was comparatively
well and strong when he re-
I turned to New York in March.
Ills illness had interfered ex
tensively with his plan of campaign,
and it was imperative that he redou
ble his efforts, notwithstanding tbe
manifest dismay of bis friends. His
first act was to call upon Grant & Rip
ley, from whom he hoped to learn
what Swearcagon Jones thought of his
methods. The lawyers had heard no
complaint from Montana and advised
bim to continue as be had begun, as
suring him as far as they could that
Jones would not prove unreasonable.
An exchange of telegrams just before
his operation bad renewed Monty's
dread of his eccentric mentor:.
NVw Tork. Jan. 6, 19—.
•Hrcsirengen Jones. Butte. Mont.:
How abov.t having my life insured?
Would It violate conditions?
MONTGOMERY BREWSTER.
T« Montgomery Brewster, New York:
Sceras to me your life would become an
asset in that case. Con you dispose of it
before Sept. S3T JONES.
To Svearongeo Jones, Butte, Mont.:
On the contrary, I think life wUI be •
debt by that time.
MONTGOMERY BREWSTER.
To Montgomery Brewster, New York:
If you feel that way about it, I advise
rou to take out a $300 policy. JONES.
To Swearengen Jones. Butte, Mont.:
Do you think that amount would cover
funeral expenses?
MONTGOMERY BREWSTER.
To Montgomery Brewster, New York:
You won't be caring about expense's if it
comes to that. JONES.
The invitations for the second ball
had been out for some time, and the
preparations were nearly complete
when Brewster arrived upon the scene
of festivity. It did not surprise him
that several old time friends should
hunt him up and protest vigorously
against the course he was pursuing,
nor did it surprise him when be found
that bis presence was not as essential
to the success of some other affair as it
had once been. He was not greeted as
cordially as before, and he grimly won
dered how many of his friends would
stand true to tbe end. The uncertain
ty made him turn more and more often
to the unquestioned loyalty of Peggy
Gray, and her little library saw him
more frequently than for months.
Much as he had dreaded the preten
tious and resplendent ball, it was use
ful to him in one way at least. The
"profit" side of his ledger account was
eniarged. and in that there was room
for secret satisfaction. The Viennese
orchestra straggled into New York
headed by Elon Gardner, a physical
wreck, in time to make a harmonious
farewell appearance behind Brewster's
palms, which caused his guests to won
der why the American public could
not appreciate the real thing. A care
ful summing up of the expenses and
receipts proved that the tour had been
a bonanza for Brewster. The net loss
was a trifle more than $56,000. When
this story became known about town
everybody laughed pityingly, and poor
Gardner was almost in tears when he
tried to explain the disaster to the man
who lost the money. But Monty's
sense of humor, singularly enough, did
not desert him on this trying occa
sion.
Aesthetically the ball prove 1 to h>
the talk of more than one sea hi. r
tingill had just! Co.! V.: •' ••••••
thority and made a n
last. He had token s
own hands wl
Florida and c
the Spain of V.
Louis Quinrr-
CHAPTER XVII.
out he"remembered, to his consterna
tion, that the favors purchased for tbe
Spanish ball would be entirely inap
propriate for the French one. He wir
ed Brewster at once of this misfortune
and was astonished at the nonchalance
of his reply. "But, then, Monty always
was a good sort." he thought, with a
glow of affection. The new plan was
more costly than the old. for It was no
simple matter to build a Versailles
suit at Sherry's.
Pettiugill was no imitator, but he
created au effect which was superbly
in keeping with the period he had
chosen. Against it the rich costumes,
with their accompaniment of wigs and
powdered hair, shone out resplendent
With great difficulty the artist had se
cured for Monty a costume in white
satin and gold brocade which might
once have adorned the person of Louis
himself. It made bim feel like a popin
jay, and it was with infinite relief
that he took it off aa hour or so after
dawn. He knew that things bad gone
well, that even Mrs. Dau w:i3 satis
fied, but the whole affair made him
heartsick. Behind the compliments
lavished upon bim be detected a note
of irony which revealed the laughter
that went ou behind his back. He had
not realized how much it would hurt.
"For 2 cents," be thought, "I'd give
up the game and be satisfied with
what's left." But he reflected that
such a course would offer no chance
to redeem himself. Once again he took
up the challenge and determined to
win out. "Them" he thought exultant
ly, "I'll make them feel this a bit"
He longed for the time when he
could take his few friends with him
and sail away to the Mediterranean
to escape the eyes and tongues of New
York. Impatiently he urged Harrison
to complete the arrangements so that
they could start at once. But Harri
son's face was not untroubled when
he made his report. All the prelimi
nary details had been perfected. He
had taken tbe Flitter for four
months, and it was being overhauled
and put into condition for tbe voyage.
It had been Brown's special pride,
but at his death it went to heirs who
were ready and eager to rent It to
the highest bidder. It would not have
been easy to find a handsomer yacht
In New York waters. A picked crew
of fifty men were under command of
Captain Abner Perry. Tbe steward
was a famous manager and couid be
relied upon to stock the larder in
princely fashion. The boat would be
in readiness to sail by the 10th of
April.
"I think you are g )ing in too heavily,
Monty." protested Harrison, twisting
bis fingers nervously. "I can't for my
life figure how you can get out for less
than a fortune if we do everything you
have in mind. Wouldn't it be better to
pull up a bit? This looks like sheer
madness. You won't have a dollar,
Monty—honestly you won'y
: "It's not In me to save money. Nop
■ per, but if you can pull out a few dol
lars for yourself I shall" not object."
"You told me that once before, Mon
ty," said Harrison as he walked to the
window. When he resolutely turned
back again to Brewster his face was
white, but there was a look of deter
mination around tbe mouth.
"Monty. I've got to give up this Jab,"
he said huskily. Brewster looked up
quickly.
"What do yon mean, Nopper?"
'I've got to leave, that's all," said
ftarrisot, standing stiff and straight
and looking over Brewster's head.
"Good Lord, Nopper, I can't have
that. You must not desert the ship.
What's the matter, old chap? You're
as white as a ghost. What is it?" Mon
ty was standing now, and his hands
were on Harrison's shoulders, but be
' fore the intensity of bis look bis friend's
eyes fell belpiessly.
"The truth is, Monty, I've taken some
Of your money, and I've lost it. That's
the reason I—l can't stay on. I have
betrayed your confidence."
"Tell me about it." and Monty was
perhaps more uncomfortable than his
friend. "I don't understand."
"You believed too much in me, Mon
ty. You see, I thought I was doing you
a favor. You were spending so much
and getting nothing in return, and I
thought I saw a chance to help you out.
It went wrong, that's all, and before I
could let go of the stock $60,000 of your
It made Mm fed like a popinjay.
money bad gone. I can't replace It
yet But God knows I didn't mean to
steal."
"Ifs all right Nopper. I see that you
thought you were helping me. Tbe
moneys gone, and that ends it Don't
take it so bard, old boy."
"I knew you'd act this way, but it
doesn't help matters. Some day I may
be able to pay back tbe money I took,
and I'm going to work until I do."
Brewster protested that he had no
use for the money and begged him to
retain the position of trust he had held.
But Harrison had too much self re
spect to care to be confronted daily
with the man he had wronged. Gradu
ally Monty realized that Nopper was
pursuing the most manly course open
to him and gave up the effort to dis
suade him. He insisted upon leaving
New York, as there was no opportu
nity to redeem himself in the metropo
lis.
"I've made up my mind, Monty, to go
out west—up in the mountains, perhaps.
There's no telling, I may stumble on
a gold mine up there—and—well, that
seems to be the only chance I have to
restore what I have taken from you."
"By Jove, Nopper, I have it!" cried
Monty. "If you must go, I'll stake you
in the hunt for gold."
In the end Nopper consented to fol
low Brewster's advice, and It was
agreed that they should share equally
all that resulted from his prospecting
tour. Brewster "grub staked" him for
a year, and before the end of the week
a new tenderfoot was on his way to
the Rocky mountains.
CHAPTER XVTiI.
HARRISON'S departure left Brew
ster lv sore straits. It forced
him to settle down to the ac
tual management of his own af
fairs. He was not indolent, but this
was not the kind of work he cared to
encourage. The private accounts he
had kept revealed some appalling facts
when he went over them carefully one
morning at 4 o'clock after an all night
session with the ledger. With infinite
pains he had managed to rise to some
thing over $450,000 in six months. But
to his original million it bad been nec
essary to add $08,550 which he had
realized from Lumber and Fuel and
some of his other "unfortunate" op
erations. At least $40,000 would come
to him ultimately through the sale of
furniture and other belongings, aud
then there would be something like
$20,000 interest to consider.
But luck had aided bim in getting rid
of his money. Tbe bank failure had
cost bim $113,40,8.25, and Nopper Har
rison had helped bim to the extent of
$00,000. The reckless but determined
effort to give a ball had cost $30,000.
What he had lost during bis illness had
been pretty well offset by tbe unlucky
concert tour. The Florida trip, includ
ing medical attention, the cottage and
living expenses, had entailed tbe ex
penditure of $18,500, and his princely
dinners and theater parties had footed
up $31,000. Taking all the facts into
consideration, he felt that he had done
rather well as far as he had gone, but
the hardest part of the undertaking
was yet to come. He was still in pos
session of an enormous sum which
must disappear before Sept. 23. About
$40,000 had already been expended in
the yachting project.
He determined to begin at once a sys
tematic campaign of extinction. It had
been his Intention before sailing to dis
pose of many household articles either
by sale or gift. As he did.not expect to
return to New York before the latter
part of August this would minimize the
struggles of the last month. But the
prospective "profit" to be acquired
from keeping bis apartment open was
not to be overlooked. He could easily
count upon a generous sum for salaries
aud running expenses. Once on tbe oth
er side of the Atlantic be hoped that
new opportunities for extravagance
would present themselves, and he fan
cied he could leave the final settlement
of his affairs for the last month. As
the day for sailing approached the
world again seemed bright to this most
mercenary of spendthrifts.
A farewell consultation with bis at
torneys proved encouraging, for to
them his chances to win the extraor
dinary contest seemed of the best. He
was in high spirits as he left them,
exhilarated by tbe sensation that the
world lay before him. In the eleva
tor he encountered Colonel Prentiss
Drew. On both sides the meeting was
not without its difficulties. The colonel
had been dazed by the inexplicable
situation between Monty and bis
daughter, whose involutions he found
hard to understand. Her summary of
the effort sbe had made to effect a
reconciliation after hearing the story
of the bank was rather vague. She
had done her utmost, she said, to be
nice to him and make him feel that
she appreciated his generosity, but be
took it in the most disagreeable fash
ion. Colonel Drew knew that things
were somehow wrong, but be was too
strongly an American father to in
terfere in a matter of the affections.
It distressed him, for be bad a liking
for Monty, and Barbara's "society
judgments," as be called them, had no
weight with him. When he found him
self confronted with Brewster in the
elevator the old warmth revived and
the old hope that the quarrel might
have an end. His greeting was cheery.
"You have not forgotten. Brewster,"
he said as tbey shook bands, "that
you have a dollar or two with us?"
"No," said Monty; "not exactly. And
I shall be calling upon you for some of
It very soon*. Fny off on. Thursday for
• cruise to tbe Mediterranean."
Tre heard something of it" They
bad reached tbe main floor, and Colonel
i Drew had drawn his companion out
of the crowd into the rotunda. 'The
money is at your disposal at any mo
ment. But aren't you setting a pretty
lively pace, my boy? You know I've
always liked you. and I knew your
grandfather rather well. He was a
good old chap, Monty, and be would
hate to see you make ducks and
drakes of his fortune."
There was something in the colonel's
manner that softened Brewster, much
as he hated to take a reproof from Bar
bara's father. Once agaiu he was
tempted to tell the truth, but he pulled
himself up in time. "It's a funny old
world, colonel." he said, "and some
times one's nearest friend is a stranger.
\ know I seem a fool; but, after all,
why isn't it good philosophy to make
the most of a holiday and then settle
back to work?"
"That is all very well. Monty"—and
Colonel Drew was entirely serious—
"but the work is a hundred times hard
er after you have played to the limit.
You'll find that you are way beyond it.
It's no joke getting back into tbe har
ness."
"Perhaps you are right, colonel, but
at least I shall have something to look
back upon even If the worst comes."
And Monty instinctively straightened
bis shoulders.
They turned to leave the building,
and the colonel had a moment of weak
ness.
"Do you know, Monty," he said, "my
daughter Is awfully cut up about this
business. She is plucky and tries not
to show it. but, after all. a girl doesn't
get over that sort of thing all in a mo
ment. lam not saying"—it seemed nec
essary to recede a step—"that it would
be an easy matter to patch up. But I
like you, Monty, and if any man could
do it you can."
"Colonel, I wish I might." And Brew
ster found that he did not hesitate.
"For your sake I very much wish the
situation were as simple as it seems.
But there are some things ■ man can't
forget, and—well, Barbara has shown
in a dozen ways that she has no faith
in me."
"Well. I've got faith in you, and a lot
of it. Take care of yourself, and when
you get back you can count on me.
j Goodby."
{ On Thursday morning the Flitter
; steamed off down tbe bay, and the
; flight of tbe prodigal grandson was on.
jXo swifter, cleaner, handsomer boat
| ever sailed out of tbe harbor of New
j York, and it was a merry crowd that
; she carried out to sea. Brewster's
guests numbered twenty-five, and tbey
brought with them a liberal supply of
maids, valets and luggage. It was not
until many weeks later that he read
the vivid descriptions of tbe weighing
of the anchor which were printed in
the New York papers, but by that time
he was impervious to their ridicule.
On deck, watching the rugged sil
houette of the city disappear into the
mists, were Dan DeMille and Mrs.
Dan, Peggy Gray, Rip Van Winkle,
Reginald Vanderpool, Joe Bragaon>
Dr. Lotless and his sister Isabel, Mr.
and Mrs. Valentine—the official chap
eron—and their daughter Mary, Sub
way Smith, Paul Pettinglll and some
others hardly less distinguished. As
Menty looked over the eager crowd he
recognized with a peculiar glow that
here were represented his best and tru
est friendships. The loyalty of these
j companions had been tested, and be
• knew that they would stand by bim
I through everything.
There was no little surprise when it
! was learned that Dan DeMille was
1 really to sail. Many of the idle voy
j agers ventured tbe opinion that he
would try to desert tbe boat in inid
| ocean if he saw a chance to get back
,to his club on a westbound steamor.
But DeMiile, big. indolent aud indiffer
ent, smiled carelessly and hoped he
wouldn't bather anybody if he "stuck
to the ship" until the end.
For a time the sea and the sky and
the tallf of the crowd were enough for
the joy of living. But after a few
peaceful days there was a lull, and it
was then that Monty gained tbe nick
name of Aladdin, which clung to him.
From somewhere, from the hold or the
rigging or from under the sea, he
brought forth four darkies from Hm
south who strummed banjos and sang
ragtime melodies. More than once dur
ing the voyage they were useful.
"Peggy," said Brewster one day
when the sky was particularly clear
and things were quiet on deck, "on the
whole I prefer this to crossing the
North river on a ferry. I rather like it,
don't you?"
"It seems like a dream," she cried,
her eyes bright, her hair blowing in the
wind.
Wanted Wild Sane.
Little Dorothy, aged three years, sat
quietly listening to the dinner table
conversation, on this occasion about
trained nurses (a little sister had just
arrived in the home).
When the elders had exhausted the
subject aud there was a kill in the
conversation she broke in with:
"Mamma, if Mith Jones is a trained
nurse, what Is a wild nurse?"— New
York Globe.
For Sale—Best driving horse in
Chelan county. Inquire of L. O. Hall.
3-7
