LITMIR.BIZ

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I know it now; I’ve known it for months. Oh, what a fool I was to have wasted all this love of yours and all this love of mine. But I’ll not be a profligate in love, Peggy. I’ll not squander an atom of it, dear, not as long as I live.”

      “And we will build a greater love, Monty, as we build the new life together. We never can be poor while we have love as a treasure.”

      “You won’t mind being poor with me?” he asked.

      “I can’t be poor with you,” she said simply.

      “And I might have let all this escape me,” he cried fervently. “Listen, Peggy—we will start together, you as my wife and my fortune. You shall be all that is left to me of the past. Will you marry me the day after tomorrow? Don’t say no, dearest. I want to begin on that day. At seven in the morning, dear? Don’t you see how good the start will be?”

      And he pleaded so ardently and so earnestly that he won his point even though it grew out of a whim that she could not then understand. She was not to learn until afterward his object in having the marriage take place on the morning of September 23d, two hours before the time set for the turning over of the Sedgwick millions. If all went well they would be Brewster’s millions before twelve o’clock, and Peggy’s life of poverty would cover no more than three hours of time. She believed him worth a lifetime of poverty. So they would start the new life with but one possession—love.

      Peggy rebelled against his desire to spend the seventy dollars that still remained, but he was firm in his determination. They would dine and drive together and see all of the old life that was left—on seventy dollars. Then on the next day they would start all over again. There was one rude moment of dismay when it occurred to him that Peggy might be considered an “asset” if she became his wife before nine o’clock. But he realized at once that it was only demanded of him that he be penniless and that he possess no object that had been acquired through the medium of Edwin Peter Brewster’s money. Surely this wife who was not to come to him until his last dollar was gone could not be the product of an old man’s legacy. But so careful was he in regard to the transaction that he decided to borrow money of Joe Bragdon to buy the license and to pay the minister’s fee. Not only would he be penniless on the day of settlement, but he would be in debt. So changed was the color of the world to him now that even the failure to win Sedgwick’s millions could not crush out the new life and the new joy that had come to him with the winning of Peggy Gray.

      CHAPTER XXXI

      HOW THE MILLION DISAPPEARED

      Soon after noon on the 22d of September, Monty folded his report to Swearengen Jones, stuck it into his pocket and sallied forth. A parcel delivery wagon had carried off a mysterious bundle a few minutes before. Mrs. Gray could not conceal her wonder, but Brewster’s answers to her questions threw little light on the mystery. He could not tell her the big bundle contained the receipts that were to prove his sincerity when the time came to settle with Mr. Jones. Brewster had used his own form of receipt for every purchase. The little stub receipt books had been made to order for him and not only he but every person in his employ carried one everywhere. No matter how trivial the purchase, the person who received a dollar of Brewster’s money signed a receipt for the amount. Newsboys and bootblacks were the only beings who escaped the formality; tips to waiters, porters, cabbies, etc., were recorded and afterward put into a class by themselves. Receipts for the few dollars remaining in his possession were to be turned over on the morning of the 23d and the general report was not to be completed until 9 o’clock on that day.

      He kissed Peggy good-bye, told her to be ready for a drive at 4 o’clock, and then went off to find Joe Bragdon and Elon Gardner. They met him by appointment and to them he confided his design to be married on the following day.

      “You can’t afford it, Monty,” exploded Joe, fearlessly. “Peggy is too good a girl. By Gad, it isn’t fair to her.”

      “We have agreed to begin life tomorrow. Wait and see the result. I think it will surprise you. Incidentally it is up to me to get the license today and to engage a minister’s services. It’s going to be quiet, you know. Joe, you can be my best man if you like, and, Gardie, I’ll expect you to sign your name as one of the witnesses. Tomorrow evening we’ll have supper at Mrs. Gray’s and ‘among those present’ will not comprise a very large list, I assure you. But we’ll talk about that later on. Just now I want to ask you fellows to lend me enough money to get the license and pay the preacher. I’ll return it tomorrow afternoon.”

      “Well, I’m damned,” exclaimed Gardner, utterly dumfounded by the nerve of the man. But they went with him to get the license and Bragdon paid for it. Gardner promised to have the minister at the Gray house the next morning. Monty’s other request—made in deep seriousness—was that Peggy was not to be told of the little transaction in which the license and the minister figured so prominently. He then hurried off to the office of Grant & Ripley. The bundles of receipts had preceded him.

      “Has Jones arrived in town?” was his first anxious question after the greetings.

      “He is not registered at any of the hotels,” responded Mr. Grant, and Brewster did not see the troubled look that passed over his face.

      “He’ll show up tonight, I presume,” said he, complacently. The lawyers did not tell him that all the telegrams they had sent to Swearengen Jones in the past two weeks had been returned to the New York office as unclaimed in Butte. The telegraph company reported that Mr. Jones was not to be found and that he had not been seen in Butte since the 3d of September. The lawyers were hourly expecting word from Montana men to whom they had telegraphed for information and advice. They were extremely nervous, but Montgomery Brewster was too eager and excited to notice the fact.

      “A tall, bearded stranger was here this morning asking for you, Mr. Brewster,” said Ripley, his head bent over some papers on his desk.

      “Ah! Jones, I’m sure. I’ve always imagined him with a long beard,” said Monty, relief in his voice.

      “It was not Mr. Jones. We know Jones quite well. This man was a stranger and refused to give his name. He said he would call at Mrs. Gray’s this afternoon.”

      “Did he look like a constable or a bill-collector?” asked Monty, with a laugh.

      “He looked very much like a tramp.”

      “Well, we’ll forget him for the time being,” said Monty, drawing the report from his pocket. “Would you mind looking over this report, gentlemen? I’d like to know if it is in proper form to present to Mr. Jones.”

      Grant’s hand trembled as he took the carefully folded sheet from Brewster. A quick glance of despair passed between the two lawyers.

      “Of course, you’ll understand that this report is merely a synopsis of the expenditures. They are classified, however, and the receipts over there are arranged in such a way that Mr. Jones can very easily verify all the figures set out in the report. For instance, where it says ‘cigars,’ I have put down the total amount that went up in smoke. The receipts are to serve as an itemized statement, you know.” Mr. Ripley took the paper from his partner’s hand and, pulling himself together, read the report aloud. It was as follows:

      NEW YORK, Sept. 23, 19—.

      To SWEARENGEN JONES, ESQ.

      Executor under the will of the late James T. Sedgwick of Montana:

      In pursuance of the terms of the aforesaid will and in accord with the instructions set forth by yourself as executor, I present my report of receipts and disbursements for the year in my life ending at midnight on Sept. 22. The accuracy of the figures set forth in this general statement may be established by referring to the receipts, which form a part of this report. There is not one penny of Edwin Peter Brewster’s money in my possession, and I have no asset to mark its burial place. These figures are submitted for your most careful consideration.

      ORIGINAL CAPITAL: $1,000,000.00

      “Lumber and Fuel” misfortune: 58,550.00

      Prize-fight misjudged: 1,000.00

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