Brewster's Millions

  CHAPTER XI

  COALS OF FIRE

  It was not that he had realized heavily in his investments which causedhis friends and his enemies to regard him in a new light; his profithad been quite small, as things go on the Exchange in these days. Themere fact that he had shown such foresight proved sufficient cause forthe reversal of opinion. Men looked at him with new interest in theireyes, with fresh confidence. His unfortunate operations in the stockmarket had restored him to favor in all circles. The man, young or old,who could do what he had done with Lumber and Fuel well deserved thenew promises that were being made for him.

  Brewster bobbed uncertainly between two emotions--elation and distress.He had achieved two kinds of success--the desired and the undesired. Itwas but natural that he should feel proud of the distinction theventure had brought to him on one hand, but there was reason fordespair over the acquisition of $50,000. It made it necessary for himto undertake an almost superhuman feat--increase the number of hisJanuary bills. The plans for the ensuing spring and summer were dimlygetting into shape and they covered many startling projects. Sinceconfiding some of them to "Nopper" Harrison, that gentleman had worn anever-decreasing look of worry and anxiety in his eyes.

  Rawles added to his despair a day or two after the Stock Exchangemisfortune. He brought up the information that six splendid littlepuppies had come to bless his Boston terrier family, and Joe Bragdon,who was present, enthusiastically predicted that he could get $100apiece for them. Brewster loved dogs, yet for one single horriblemoment he longed to massacre the helpless little creatures. But the oldaffection came back to him, and he hurried out with Bragdon to inspectthe brood.

  "And I've either got to sell them or kill them," he groaned. Later onhe instructed Bragdon to sell the pups for $25 apiece, and went away,ashamed to look their proud mother in the face.

  Fortune smiled on him before the day was over, however. He took"Subway" Smith for a ride in the "Green Juggernaut," bad weather andbad roads notwithstanding. Monty lost control of the machine and headedfor a subway excavation. He and Smith saved themselves by leaping tothe pavement, sustaining slight bruises, but the great machine crashedthrough the barricade and dropped to the bottom of the trench farbelow. To Smith's grief and Brewster's delight the automobile washopelessly ruined, a clear loss of many thousands. Monty's joy wasshort-lived, for it was soon learned that three luckless workmen downin the depths had been badly injured by the green meteor from above.The mere fact that Brewster could and did pay liberally for the reliefof the poor fellows afforded him little consolation. His carelessness,and possibly his indifference, had brought suffering to these men andtheir families which was not pleasant to look back upon. Lawsuits wereavoided by compromises. Each of the injured men received $4,000.

  At this time every one was interested in the charity bazaar at theAstoria. Society was on exhibition, and the public paid for theprivilege of gazing at the men and women whose names filled the societycolumns. Brewster frequented the booth presided over by Miss Drew, andthere seemed to be no end to his philanthropy. The bazaar lasted twodays and nights, and after that period his account-book showed an even"profit" of nearly $3,000. Monty's serenity, however, was considerablyruffled by the appearance of a new and aggressive claimant for thesmiles of the fair Barbara. He was a Californian of immense wealth andunbounded confidence in himself, and letters to people in New York hadgiven him a certain entree. The triumphs in love and finance that hadcome with his two score years and ten had demolished every vestige oftimidity that may have been born with him. He was successful enough inthe world of finance to have become four or five times a millionaire,and he had fared so well in love that twice he had been a widower.Rodney Grimes was starting out to win Barbara with the same dash andimpulsiveness that overcame Mary Farrell, the cook in the mining-camp,and Jane Boothroyd, the school-teacher, who came to California ready tomarry the first man who asked her. He was a penniless prospector whenhe married Mary, and when he led Jane to the altar she rejoiced inhaving captured a husband worth at least $50,000.

  He vied with Brewster in patronizing Barbara's booth, and he rushedinto the conflict with an impetuosity that seemed destined to carryeverything before it. Monty was brushed aside, Barbara was preempted asif she were a mining claim and ten days after his arrival in New York,Grimes was the most talked-of man in town. Brewster was not the sort tobe dispatched without a struggle, however. Recognizing Grimes as anobstacle, but not as a rival, he once more donned his armor and besetBarbara with all the zest of a champion who seeks to protect and not toconquer. He regarded the Californian as an impostor and summary actionwas necessary. "I know all about him, Babs," he said one day after hefelt sure of his position. "Why, his father was honored by the V. C, onthe coast in '49."

  "The Victoria Cross?" asked Barbara, innocently.

  "No, the vigilance committee."

  In this way Monty routed the enemy and cleared the field before the endof another week. Grimes transferred his objectionable affection andBarbara was not even asked to be wife number three. Brewster's campaignwas so ardent that he neglected other duties deplorably, falling farbehind his improvident average. With Grimes disposed of, he once moreforsook the battlefield of love and gave his harassed and undividedattention to his own peculiar business.

  The fast-and-loose game displeased Miss Barbara greatly. She was atfirst surprised, then piqued, then resentful. Monty gradually awoke tothe distressing fact that she was going to be intractable, as he putit, and forthwith undertook to smooth the troubled sea. To hisamazement and concern she was not to be appeased.

  "Does it occur to you, Monty," she said, with a gentle coldness thatwas infinitely worse than heat, "that you have been carrying thingswith a pretty high hand? Where did you acquire the right to interferewith my privileges? You seem to think that I am not to speak to any manbut you."

  "O, come now, Babs," retorted Monty, "I've not been quite asunreasonable as that. And you know yourself that Grimes is the worstkind of a bounder."

  "I know nothing of the sort," replied the lady, with growingirritation. "You say that about every man who gives me a smile or aflower. Does it indicate such atrocious taste?"

  "Don't be silly, Barbara. You know perfectly well that you have talkedto Gardner and that idiot Valentine by the hour, and I've not said aword. But there are some things I can't stand, and the impertinence ofGrimes is one of them. Jove! he looked at you, out of those fishy eyes,sometimes as though he owned you. If you knew how many times I'vefairly ached to knock him down!"

  Inwardly Barbara was weakening a little before his masterfulness. Butshe gave no sign.

  "And it never occurred to you," she said, with that exasperatingcoldness of the voice, "that I was equal to the situation. I supposeyou thought Mr. Grimes had only to beckon and I would joyfully answer.I'll have you know, Monty Brewster, right now, that I am quite able tochoose my friends, and to handle them. Mr. Grimes has character and Ilike him. He has seen more of life in a year of his strenuous careerthan you ever dreamed of in all your pampered existence. His life hasbeen real, Monty Brewster, and yours is only an imitation."

  It struck him hard, but it left him gentle.

  "Babs," he said, softly, "I can't take that from you. You don't reallymean it, do you? Am I as bad as that?"

  It was a moment for dominance, and he missed it. His gentleness lefther cold.

  "Monty," she exclaimed irritably, "you are terribly exasperating. Domake up your mind that you and your million are not the only things inthe world."

  His blood was up now, but it flung him away from her.

  "Some day, perhaps, you'll find out that there is not much besides. Iam just a little too big, for one thing, to be played with and thrownaside. I won't stand it."

  He left the house with his head high in the air, angry red in hischeeks, and a feeling in his heart that she was the most unreasonableof women. Barbara, in the meantime, cried herself to sleep, vowing shewould never love Monty Brewster again as long as she lived.


  A sharp cutting wind was blowing in Monty's face as he left the house.He was thoroughly wretched.

  "Throw up your hands!" came hoarsely from somewhere, and there was notenderness in the tones. For an instant Monty was dazed and bewildered,but in the next he saw two shadowy figures walking beside him. "Stopwhere you are, young fellow," was the next command, and he stoppedshort. He was in a mood to fight, but the sight of a revolver made himthink again. Monty was not a coward, neither was he a fool. He wasquick to see that a struggle would be madness.

  "What do you want?" he demanded as coolly as his nerves would permit.

  "Put up your hands quick!" and he hastily obeyed the injunction.

  "Not a sound out of you or you get it good and proper. You know what wewant. Get to work, Bill; I'll watch his hands."

  "Help yourselves, boys. I'm not fool enough to scrap about it. Don'thit me or shoot, that's all. Be quick about it, because I'll take coldif my overcoat is open long. How's business been to-night?" Brewsterwas to all intents and purposes the calmest man in New York.

  "Fierce!" said the one who was doing the searching. "You're the firstguy we've seen in a week that looks good."

  "I hope you won't be disappointed," said Monty, genially. "If I'dexpected this I might have brought more money."

  "I guess we'll be satisfied," chuckled the man with the revolver."You're awful nice and kind, mister, and maybe you wouldn't object totellin' us when you'll be up dis way ag'in."

  "It's a pleasure to do business with you, pardner," said the other,dropping Monty's $300 watch in his pocket. "We'll leave car-fare foryou for your honesty." His hands were running through Brewster'spockets with the quickness of a machine. "You don't go much on jewelry,I guess. Are dese shoit buttons de real t'ing?"

  "They're pearls," said Monty, cheerfully.

  "My favorite jool," said the man with the revolver. "Clip 'em out,Bill."

  "Don't cut the shirt," urged Monty. "I'm going to a little supper and Idon't like the idea of a punctured shirt-front."

  "I'll be as careful as I kin, mister. There, I guess dat's all. Shall Icall a cab for you, sir?"

  "No, thank you, I think I'll walk."

  "Well, just walk south a hundred steps without lookin' 'round eryellin' and you kin save your skin. I guess you know what I mean,pardner."

  "I'm sure I do. Good-night."

  "Good-night," came in chuckles from the two hold-up men. But Brewsterhesitated, a sharp thought penetrating his mind.

  "By gad!" he exclaimed, "you chaps are very careless. Do you knowyou've missed a roll of three hundred dollars in this overcoat pocket?"The men gasped and the spasmodic oaths that came from them were born ofincredulity. It was plain that they doubted their ears.

  "Say it ag'in," muttered Bill, in bewildered tones.

  "He's stringin' us, Bill," said the other.

  "Sure," growled Bill. "It's a nice way to treat us, mister. Move alongnow and don't turn 'round."

  "Well, you're a couple of nice highwaymen," cried Monty in disgust.

  "Sh--not so loud."

  "That is no way to attend to business. Do you expect me to go down inmy pocket and hand you the goods on a silver tray?"

  "Keep your hands up! You don't woik dat game on me. You got a gunthere."

  "No, I haven't. This is on the level. You over-looked a roll of billsin your haste and I'm not the sort of fellow to see an earnestendeavorer get the worst of it. My hands are up. See for yourself ifI'm not telling you the truth."

  "What kind of game is dis?" growled Bill, dazed and bewildered. "I'mblowed if I know w'at to t'ink o' you," cried he in honest amazement."You don't act drunk, and you ain't crazy, but there's somethin' wrongwid you. Are you givin' it to us straight about de wad?"

  "You can find out easily."

  "Well, I hate to do it, boss, but I guess we'll just take de overcoatand all. It looks like a trick and we takes no chances. Off wid decoat."

  Monty's coat came off in a jiffy and he stood shivering before thedumfounded robbers.

  "We'll leave de coat at de next corner, pardner. It's cold and you needit more'n we do. You're de limit, you are. So long. Walk right straightahead and don't yell."

  Brewster found his coat a few minutes later, and went whistling awayinto the night. The roll of bills was gone.