LITMIR.BIZ

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six terrier pups: 150.00

      Sale of furniture and personal effects: 40,500.00

      Interest on funds once in hand: 19,140.00

      Total amount to be disposed of: $1,160,040.00

      DISBURSEMENTS.

      Rent for apartments: $23,000.00

      Furnishing apartments: 88,372.00

      Three automobiles: 21,000.00

      Renting six automobiles: 25,000.00

      Amount lost to DeMille: 1,000.00

      Salaries: 25,650.00

      Amount paid to men injured in auto accident: 12,240 00

      Amount lost in bank failure: 113,468.25

      Amount lost on races: 4,000.00

      One glass screen: 3,000.00

      Christmas presents: 7,211.00

      Postage: 1,105.00

      Cable and telegraph: 3,253.00

      Stationery: 2,400.00

      Two Boston terriers: 600.00

      Amount lost to “hold-up men”: 450.00

      Amount lost on concert tour: 56,382.00

      Amount lost through O. Harrison’s speculation (on my account): 60,000.00

      One ball (in two sections): 60,000.00

      Extra favors: 6,000.00

      One yacht cruise: 212,309.50

      One carnival: 6,824.00

      Cigars: 1,720.00

      Drinks, chiefly for others: 9,040.00

      Clothing: 3,400.00

      Rent of one villa: 20,000.00

      One courier: 500.00

      Dinner parties: 117,900.00

      Suppers and luncheons: 38,000.00

      Theater parties and suppers: 6,277.00

      Hotel expenses: 61,218.59

      Railway and steamship fares: 31,274.81

      For Newsboys’ Home: 5,000.00

      Two opera performances: 20,000.00

      Repairs to “Flitter”: 6,342.60

      In tow from somewhere to Southampton: 50,000.00

      Special train to Florida: 1,000.00

      Cottage in Florida: 5,500.00

      Medical attendance: 3,100.00

      Living expenses in Florida: 8,900.00

      Misappropriation of personal property by servants: 3,580.00

      Taxes on personal property: 112.25

      Sundries: 9,105.00

      Household expenses: 24,805.00

      Total disbursements: $1,160,040.00

      BALANCE ON HAND: $0,000,000.00

      Respectfully submitted,

      MONTGOMERY BREWSTER.

      “It’s rather broad, you see, gentlemen, but there are receipts for every dollar, barring some trifling incidentals. He may think I dissipated the fortune, but I defy him or any one else to prove that I have not had my money’s worth. To tell you the truth, it has seemed like a hundred million. If any one should tell you that it is an easy matter to waste a million dollars, refer him to me. Last fall I weighed 180 pounds, yesterday I barely moved the beam at 140; last fall there was not a wrinkle in my face, nor did I have a white hair. You see the result of overwork, gentlemen. It will take an age to get back to where I was physically, but I think I can do it with the vacation that begins tomorrow. Incidentally, I’m going to be married tomorrow morning, just when I am poorer than I ever expect to be again. I still have a few dollars to spend and I must be about it. Tomorrow I will account for what I spend this evening. It is now covered by the ‘sundries’ item, but I’ll have the receipts to show, all right. See you tomorrow morning.”

      He was gone, eager to be with Peggy, afraid to discuss his report with the lawyers. Grant and Ripley shook their heads and sat silent for a long time after his departure.

      “We ought to hear something definite before night,” said Grant, but there was anxiety in his voice.

      “I wonder,” mused Ripley, as if to himself, “how he will take it if the worst should happen.”

      CHAPTER XXXII

      THE NIGHT BEFORE

      “It’s all up to Jones now,” kept running through Brewster’s brain as he drove off to keep his appointment with Peggy Gray. “The million is gone—all gone. I’m as poor as Job’s turkey. It’s up to Jones, but I don’t see how he can decide against me. He insisted on making a pauper of me and he can’t have the heart to throw me down now. But, what if he should take it into his head to be ugly! I wonder if I could break the will—I wonder if I could beat him out in court.”

      Peggy was waiting for him. Her cheeks were flushed as with a fever. She had caught from him the mad excitement of the occasion.

      “Come, Peggy,” he exclaimed, eagerly. “This is our last holiday—let’s be merry. We can forget it tomorrow, if you like, when we begin all over again, but maybe it will be worth remembering.” He assisted her to the seat and then leaped up beside her. “We’re off!” he cried, his voice quivering.

      “It is absolute madness, dear,” she said, but her eyes were sparkling with the joy of recklessness. Away went the trap and the two light hearts. Mrs. Gray turned from a window in the house with tears in her eyes. To her troubled mind they were driving off into utter darkness.

      “The queerest looking man came to the house to see you this afternoon, Monty,” said Peggy. “He wore a beard and he made me think of one of Remington’s cowboys.”

      “What was his name?”

      “He told the maid it did not matter. I saw him as he walked away and he looked very much a man. He said he would come tomorrow if he did not find you down town tonight. Don’t you recognize him from the description?”

      “Not at all. Can’t imagine who he is.”

      “Monty,” she said, after a moment’s painful reflection, “he—he couldn’t have been a—”

      “I know what you mean. An officer sent up to attach my belongings or something of the sort. No, dearest; I give you my word of honor I do not owe a dollar in the world.” Then he recalled his peculiar indebtedness to Bragdon and Gardner. “Except one or two very small personal obligations,” he added, hastily. “Don’t worry about it, dear, we are out for a good time and we must make the most of it. First, we drive through the Park, then we dine at Sherry’s.”

      “But we must dress for that, dear,” she cried. “And the chaperon?”

      He turned very red when she spoke of dressing. “I’m ashamed to confess it, Peggy, but I have no other clothes than these I’m wearing now. Don’t look so hurt, dear—I’m going to leave an order for new evening clothes tomorrow—if I have the time. And about the chaperon. People won’t be talking before tomorrow and by that time—”

      “No, Monty, Sherry’s is out of the question. We can’t go there,” she said, decisively.

      “Oh, Peggy! That spoils everything,” he cried, in deep disappointment.

      “It isn’t fair to me, Monty. Everybody would know us, and every tongue would wag. They would say, ‘There are Monty Brewster and Margaret Gray. Spending his last few dollars on her.’ You wouldn’t have them think that?”

      He saw the justice in her protest. “A quiet

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