Brewster's Millions

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by George Barr McCutcheon


  CHAPTER V

  THE MESSAGE FROM JONES

  A new point of view gradually came to Brewster. All his life had beenspent in wondering how to get enough money to pay his bills, and it hadnot occurred to him that it might be as difficult to spend as toacquire wealth. The thought staggered him for a moment. Then he criedtriumphantly, "I can decline to accept grandfather's million."

  "You cannot decline to accept what is already yours. I understand thatthe money has been paid to you by Mr. Buskirk. You have a milliondollars, Mr. Brewster, and it cannot be denied."

  "You are right," agreed Montgomery, dejectedly. "Really, Mr. Grant,this proposition is too much for me. If you aren't required to give animmediate answer, I want to think it over. It sounds like a dream."

  "It is no dream, Mr. Brewster," smiled the lawyer. "You are face toface with an amazing reality. Come in to-morrow morning and see meagain. Think it over, study it out. Remember the conditions of the willand the conditions that confront you. In the meantime, I shall write toMr. Jones, the executor, and learn from him just what he expects you todo in order to carry out his own conception of the terms of youruncle's will."

  "Don't write, Mr. Grant; telegraph. And ask him to wire his reply. Ayear is not very long in an affair of this kind." A moment later headded, "Damn these family feuds! Why couldn't Uncle James have relenteda bit? He brings endless trouble on my innocent head, just because of arow before I was born."

  "He was a strange man. As a rule, one does not carry grudges quite sofar. But that is neither here nor there. His will is law in this case."

  "Suppose I succeed in spending all but a thousand dollars before the23d of next September! I'd lose the seven millions and be the nextthing to a pauper. That wouldn't be quite like getting my money'sworth."

  "It is a problem, my boy. Think it over very seriously before you cometo a decision, one way or the other. In the meantime, we can establishbeyond a doubt the accuracy of this inventory."

  "By all means, go ahead, and please urge Mr. Jones not to be too hardon me. I believe I'll risk it if the restrictions are not too severe.But if Jones has puritanical instincts, I might as well give up hopeand be satisfied with what I have."

  "Mr. Jones is very far from what you'd call puritanical, but he isintensely practical and clear-headed. He will undoubtedly require youto keep an expense account and to show some sort of receipt for everydollar you disburse."

  "Good Lord! Itemize?"

  "In a general way, I presume."

  "I'll have to employ an army of spendthrifts to devise ways and meansfor profligacy."

  "You forget the item which restrains you from taking anybody into yourconfidence concerning this matter. Think it over. It may not be sodifficult after a night's sleep."

  "If it isn't too difficult to get the night's sleep."

  All the rest of the day Brewster wandered about as one in a dream. Hewas pre-occupied and puzzled, and more than one of his old associates,receiving a distant nod in passing, resentfully concluded that hiswealth was beginning to change him. His brain was so full ofstatistics, figures, and computations that it whirled dizzily, and oncehe narrowly escaped being run down by a cable car. He dined alone at asmall French restaurant in one of the side streets. The waiter marveledat the amount of black coffee the young man consumed and looked hurtwhen he did not touch the quail and lettuce.

  That night the little table in his room at Mrs. Gray's was litteredwith scraps of pad paper, each covered with an incomprehensible maze offigures. After dinner he had gone to his own rooms, forgetting that helived on Fifth Avenue. Until long after midnight he smoked andcalculated and dreamed. For the first time the immensity of thatmillion thrust itself upon him. If on that very day, October the first,he were to begin the task of spending it he would have but threehundred and fifty-seven days in which to accomplish the end. Taking theround sum of one million dollars as a basis, it was an easy matter tocalculate his average daily disbursement. The situation did not look soutterly impossible until he held up the little sheet of paper andruefully contemplated the result of that simple problem in mathematics.

  It meant an average daily expenditure of $2,801.12 for nearly a year,and even then there would be sixteen cents left over, for, in provingthe result of his rough sum in division, he could account for but$999,999.84. Then it occurred to him that his money would be drawinginterest at the bank.

  "But for each day's $2,801.12, I am getting seven times as much," hesoliloquized, as he finally got into bed. "That means $19,607.84 a day,a clear profit of $16,806.72. That's pretty good--yes, too good. Iwonder if the bank couldn't oblige me by not charging interest."

  The figures kept adding and subtracting themselves as he dozed off, andonce during the night he dreamed that Swearengen Jones had sentencedhim to eat a million dollars' worth of game and salad at the Frenchrestaurant. He awoke with the consciousness that he had cried aloud, "Ican do it, but a year is not very long in an affair of this kind."

  It was nine o'clock when Brewster finally rose, and after his tub hefelt ready to cope with any problem, even a substantial breakfast. Amessage had come to him from Mr. Grant of Grant & Ripley, announcingthe receipt of important dispatches from Montana, and asking him toluncheon at one. He had time to spare, and as Margaret and Mrs. Grayhad gone out, he telephoned Ellis to take his horse to the entrance tothe park at once. The crisp autumn air was perfect for his ride, andBrewster found a number of smart people already riding and driving inthe park. His horse was keen for a canter and he had reached theobelisk before he drew rein. As he was about to cross the carriage roadhe was nearly run down by Miss Drew in her new French automobile.

  "I beg your pardon," she cried. "You're the third person I've run into,so you see I'm not discriminating against you."

  "I should be flattered even to be run down by you."

  "Very well, then, look out." And she started the machine as if tocharge him. She stopped in time, and said with a laugh, "Your gallantrydeserves a reward. Wouldn't you rather send your horse home and comefor a ride with me?"

  "My man is waiting at Fifty-ninth Street. If you'll come that far, I'llgo with pleasure."

  Monty had merely a society acquaintance with Miss Drew. He had met herat dinners and dances as he had a host of other girls, but she hadimpressed him more than the others. Something indescribable took placeevery time their eyes met. Monty had often wondered just what thatsomething meant, but he had always realized that it had in it nothingof platonic affection.

  "If I didn't have to meet her eyes," he had said to himself, "I couldgo on discussing even politics with her, but the moment she looks at meI know she can see what I'm thinking about." From the first theyconsidered themselves very good friends, and after their third meetingit seemed perfectly natural that they should call one another by theirfirst names. Monty knew he was treading on dangerous ground. It neveroccurred to him to wonder what Barbara might think of him. He took itas a matter of course that she must feel more than friendly toward him.As they rode through the maze of carriages, they bowed frequently tofriends as they passed. They were conscious that some of the women,noticeably old Miss Dexter, actually turned around and gazed at them.

  "Aren't you afraid people will talk about us?" asked Monty with a laugh.

  "Talk about our riding together in the park? It's just as safe here asit would be in Fifth Avenue. Besides, who cares? I fancy we can standit."

  "You're a thoroughbred, Barbara. I simply didn't want you talked about.When I go too far, say the word and drop me."

  "I have a luncheon at two, but until then we have our ride."

  Monty gasped and looked at his watch. "Five minutes to one," he cried.The matter of his engagement with the attorney had quite escaped him.In the exhilaration of Miss Drew's companionship he had forgotten evenUncle James's millions.

  "I've got a date at one that means life and death to me. Would you mindtaking me down to the nearest Elevated--or--here, let me run it."

  Almost before Barbara was awar
e of what was happening they had changedplaces and the machine, under Monty's guidance, was tearing over theground.

  "Of all the casual people," said the girl, by no means unequal to theexcitement, "I believe you're kidnapping me."

  But when she saw the grim look on Monty's face and one policeman afteranother warned him she became seriously alarmed. "Monty Brewster, thispace is positively dangerous."

  "Perhaps it is," he responded, "but if they haven't sense enough tokeep out of the way they shouldn't kick if they get run over."

  "I don't mean the people or the automobiles or traps or trees ormonuments, Monty; I mean you and me. I know we'll either be killed orarrested."

  "This isn't anything to the gait I'll be going if everything turns outas I expect. Don't be worried, Babs. Besides it's one now. Lord, Ididn't dream it was so late."

  "Is your appointment so important?" she asked, hanging on.

  "Well, I should say it is, and--look out--you blooming idiot! Do youwant to get killed?" The last remark was hurled back at an indignantpedestrian who had escaped destruction by the merest chance.

  "Here we are," he said, as they drew up beside the entrance to theElevated. "Thanks awfully,--you're a corker,--sorry to leave you thisway. I'll tell you all about it later. You're a dear to help me keep myappointment."

  "Seems to me you helped yourself," she cried after him as he darted upthe steps. "Come up for tea some day and tell me who the lady is."

  After he had gone Miss Drew turned to her chauffeur, who was in thetonneau. Then she laughed unrestrainedly, and the faintest shadow of agrin stole over the man's face.

  "Beg pardon, Miss," he said, "but I'd back Mr. Brewster againstFournier any day."

  Only half an hour late, Brewster entered the office of Messrs. Grant &Ripley, flushed, eager, and unconscious of the big splotch of mud thatdecorated his cheek.

  "Awfully sorry to have kept you waiting," he apologized.

  "Sherlock Holmes would say that you had been driving, Mr. Brewster,"said Mr. Ripley, shaking the young man's hand.

  "He would miss it, Mr. Ripley. I've been flying. What have you heardfrom Montana?" He could no longer check the impatient question, whichcame out so suddenly that the attorneys laughed irresistibly, BrewsterJoining them an instant later. They laid before him a half dozentelegrams, responses from bankers, lawyers, and mine-operators inMontana. These messages established beyond doubt the extent of James T.Sedgwick's wealth; it was reported to be even greater than shown by theactual figures.

  "And what does Mr. Jones say?" demanded Montgomery.

  "His reply resembles a press dispatch. He has tried to make himselfthoroughly clear, and if there is anything left unsaid it is past ourcomprehension. I am sorry to inform you, though, that he has paid thetelegraph charges," said Mr. Grant, smiling broadly.

  "Is he rational about it?" asked Montgomery, nervously.

  Mr. Grant gave his partner a quick, significant glance, and then drewfrom his desk the voluminous telegram from Swearengen Jones. It was asfollows:

  October 2.

  GRANT & RIPLEY,

  Yucatan Building, New York.

  I am to be sole referee in this matter. You are retained as my agents,heir to report to me through you weekly. One desire of uncle was toforestall grandfather's bequest. I shall respect that desire. Enforceterms rigidly. He was my best friend and trusted me with disposition ofall this money. Shall attend to it sacredly. Heir must get rid of moneyleft to him in given time. Out of respect to memory of uncle he musttake no one into his confidence. Don't want world to think S. wasdamned fool. He wasn't. Here are rules I want him to work under: 1. Noreckless gambling. 2. No idiotic Board of Trade speculation. 3. Noendowments to institutions of any character, because their memory wouldbe an invisible asset. 4. No indiscriminate giving away of funds. Bythat I don't mean him to be stingy. I hate a stingy man and so didJ.T.S. 5. No more than ordinary dissipation. I hate a saint. So didJ.T.S. And both of us sowed an oat or two. 6. No excessive donations tocharity. If he gives as other millionaires do I'll let it go at that.Don't believe charity should be spoiled by indulgence. It is not easyto spend a million, and I won't be unreasonable with him. Let him spendit freely, but not foolishly, and get his money's worth out of it. Ifhe does that I'll consider him a good business man. I regard it foolishto tip waiter more than a dollar and car porter does not deserve overfive. He does not earn more than one. If heir wants to try for the bigstake he'd better begin quick, because he might slip up if he waitsuntil day of judgment. It's less than year off. Luck to him. Will writeyou more fully.

  S. JONES.

  "Write more fully!" echoed Montgomery. "What can there be left to writeabout?"

  "He is explicit," said the attorney, "but it is best to know all theconditions before you decide. Have you made up your mind?"

  Brewster sat for a long time, staring hard at the floor. A greatstruggle was going on in his mind.

  "It's a gamble, and a big one," he said at last, squaring hisshoulders, "but I'll take it. I don't want to appear disloyal to mygrandfather, but I think that even he would advise me to accept. Yes,you may write Mr. Jones that I accept the chance."

  The attorneys complimented him on his nerve, and wished him success.Brewster turned with a smile.

  "I'll begin by asking what you think a reasonable fee for an attorneyin a case of this kind. I hope you will act for me."

  "You don't want to spend it all in a lump, do you?" asked Mr. Grant,smiling. "We can hardly act as counsel for both you and Mr. Jones."

  "But I must have a lawyer, and the will limits the number of myconfidants. What am I to do?"

  "We will consult Mr. Jones in regard to the question. It is notregular, you see, but I apprehend no legal difficulties. We cannotaccept fees from both sides, however," said Mr. Grant.

  "But I want attorneys who are willing to help me. It won't be a help ifyou decline to accept my money."

  "We'll resort to arbitration," laughed Ripley.

  Before night Montgomery Brewster began a career that would havestartled the world had the facts been known. With true loyalty to the"Little Sons of the Rich," he asked his friends to dinner and openedtheir eyes.

  "Champagne!" cried Harrison, as they were seated at table. "I can'tremember the last time I had champagne."

  "Naturally," laughed "Subway" Smith. "You couldn't remember anythingafter that."

  As the dinner progressed Brewster explained that he intended to doublehis fortune within a year. "I'm going to have some fun, too," he said,"and you boys are to help me."

  "Nopper" Harrison was employed as "superintendent of affairs"; ElonGardner as financial secretary; Joe Bragdon as private secretary;"Subway" Smith as counsel, and there were places in view for the othermembers.

  "I want the smartest apartment you can find, Nopper," he commanded."Don't stop at expense. Have Pettingill redecorate it from top tobottom, Get the best servants you can find. I'm going to live, Nopper,and hang the consequences."

 

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