Produced by Charles Franks, Charles Aldarondo, and theOnline Distributed Proofreading Team.
[Illustration by Helen Mason Grose with caption: "I was thinking--ofMr. Stanley G. Fulton"]
OH, MONEY! MONEY!
A NOVEL
BY
ELEANOR H. PORTER
Author of
The Road to Understanding, Just David, Etc.
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY HELEN MASON GROSE
To
My Friend
EVA BAKER
CONTENTS
I. EXIT MR. STANLEY G. FULTON
II. ENTER MR. JOHN SMITH
III. THE SMALL BOY AT THE KEYHOLE
IV. IN SEARCH OF SOME DATES
V. IN MISS FLORA'S ALBUM
VI. POOR MAGGIE
VII. POOR MAGGIE AND SOME OTHERS
VIII. A SANTA CLAUS HELD UP
IX. "DEAR COUSIN STANLEY"
X. WHAT DOES IT MATTER?
XI. SANTA CLAUS ARRIVES
XII. THE TOYS RATTLE OUT
XIII. THE DANCING BEGINS
XIV. FROM ME TO YOU WITH LOVE
XV. IN SEARCH OF REST
XVI. THE FLY IN THE OINTMENT
XVII. AN AMBASSADOR OF CUPID'S
XVIII. JUST A MATTER OF BEGGING
XIX. STILL OTHER FLIES
XX. FRANKENSTEIN: BEING A LETTER FROM JOHN SMITH TO EDWARD D. NORTON, ATTORNEY AT LAW
XXI. SYMPATHIES MISPLACED
XXII. WITH EVERY JIM A JAMES
XXIII. REFLECTIONS--MIRRORED AND OTHERWISE
XXIV. THAT MISERABLE MONEY
XXV. EXIT MR. JOHN SMITH
XXVI. REENTER MR. STANLEY G. FULTON
ILLUSTRATIONS
"I WAS THINKING--OF MR. STANLEY G. FULTON" Frontispiece
"I CAN'T HELP IT, AUNT MAGGIE. I'VE JUST GOT TO BE AWAY!"
"JIM, YOU'LL HAVE TO COME!"
"AND LOOK INTO THOSE BLESSED CHILDREN'S FACES"
From drawings by Mrs. Howard B. Grose, Jr.
CHAPTER I
EXIT MR. STANLEY G. FULTON
There was a thoughtful frown on the face of the man who was thepossessor of twenty million dollars. He was a tall, spare man, with afringe of reddish-brown hair encircling a bald spot. His blue eyes,fixed just now in a steady gaze upon a row of ponderous law booksacross the room, were friendly and benevolent in direct contradictionto the bulldog, never-let-go fighting qualities of the square jaw belowthe firm, rather thin lips.
The lawyer, a youthfully alert man of sixty years, trimly gray as togarb, hair, and mustache, sat idly watching him, yet with eyes thatlooked so intently that they seemed to listen.
For fully five minutes the two men had been pulling at their cigars insilence when the millionaire spoke.
"Ned, what am I going to do with my money?"
Into the lawyer's listening eyes flashed, for a moment, the keenlyscrutinizing glance usually reserved for the witness on the other side.Then quietly came the answer.
"Spend it yourself, I hope--for some years to come, Stanley."
Mr. Stanley G. Fulton was guilty of a shrug and an uplifted eyebrow.
"Thanks. Very pretty, and I appreciate it, of course. But I can't wearbut one suit of clothes at a time, nor eat but one dinner--which, bythe way, just now consists of somebody's health biscuit and hot water.Twenty millions don't really what you might call melt away at thatrate."
The lawyer frowned.
"Shucks, Fulton!" he expostulated, with an irritable twist of his hand."I thought better of you than that. This poor rich man's 'one-suit,one-dinner, one-bed-at-a-time' hard-luck story doesn't suit your style.Better cut it out!"
"All right. Cut it is." The man smiled good-humoredly. "But you see Iwas nettled. You didn't get me at all. I asked you what was to becomeof my money after I'd done spending it myself--the little that is left,of course."
Once more from the lawyer's eyes flashed that keenly scrutinizingglance.
"What was it, Fulton? A midnight rabbit, or a wedge of mince pie NOTlike mother used to make? Why, man alive, you're barely over fifty,yet. Cheer up! It's only a little matter of indigestion. There are alot of good days and good dinners coming to you, yet."
The millionaire made a wry face.
"Very likely--if I survive the biscuits. But, seriously, Ned, I'm inearnest. No, I don't think I'm going to die--yet awhile. But I ranacross young Bixby last night--got him home, in fact. Delivered him tohis white-faced little wife. Talk about your maudlin idiots!"
"Yes, I know. Too bad, too bad!"
"Hm-m; well, that's what one million did--inherited. It set me tothinking--of mine, when I get through with them."
"I see." The lawyer's lips came together a little grimly. "You've notmade your will, I believe."
"No. Dreaded it, somehow. Funny how a man'll fight shy of a littlething like that, isn't it? And when we're so mighty particular where itgoes while we're living!"
"Yes, I know; you're not the only one. You have relatives--somewhere, Isurmise."
"Nothing nearer than cousins, third or fourth, back East. They'd getit, I suppose--without a will."
"Why don't you marry?"
The millionaire repeated the wry face of a moment before.
"I'm not a marrying man. I never did care much for women; and--I'm notfool enough to think that a woman would be apt to fall in love with mybald head. Nor am I obliging enough to care to hand the millions overto the woman that falls in love with THEM, taking me along as thenecessary sack that holds the gold. If it comes to that, I'd ratherrisk the cousins. They, at least, are of my own blood, and they didn'tangle to get the money."
"You know them?"
"Never saw 'em."
"Why not pick out a bunch of colleges and endow them?"
The millionaire shook his head.
"Doesn't appeal to me, somehow. Oh, of course it ought to, but--it justdoesn't. That's all. Maybe if I was a college man myself; but--well, Ihad to dig for what education I got."
"Very well--charities, then. There are numberless organizationsthat--" He stopped abruptly at the other's uplifted hand.
"Organizations! Good Heavens, I should think there were! I tried 'emonce. I got that philanthropic bee in my bonnet, and I gave thousands,tens of thousands to 'em. Then I got to wondering where the money went."
Unexpectedly the lawyer chuckled.
"You never did like to invest without investigating, Fulton," heobserved.
With only a shrug for an answer the other plunged on.
"Now, understand. I'm not saying that organized charity isn't allright, and doesn't do good, of course. Neither am I prepared to proposeanything to take its place. And maybe the two or three I dealt withwere particularly addicted to the sort of thing I objected to. But,honestly, Ned, if you'd lost heart and friends and money, and were justready to chuck the whole shooting-match, how would you like to become a'Case,' say, number twenty-three thousand seven hundred and forty-one,ticketed and docketed, and duly apportioned off to a six-by-nine ruleof 'do this' and 'do that,' while a dozen spectacled eyes watched youbeing cleaned up and regulated and wound up with a key made of just somuch and no more pats and preachments carefully weighed and labeled?How WOULD you like it?"
The lawyer laughed.
"I know; but, my dear fellow, what would you have? Surely, UNorganizedcharity and promiscuous giving is worse--"
"Oh, yes, I've tried that way, too," shrugged the other. "There was atime when every Tom, Dick, and Harry, with a run-down shoe and a raggedcoat, could count on me for a ten-spot by just holding out his hand, noquestions asked. Then a serious-eyed little woman sternly told me oneday that the indiscriminate charity of a millionaire was not only
acurse to any community, but a corruption to the whole state. I believeshe kindly included the nation, as well, bless her! And I thought I wasdoing good!" "What a blow--to you!" There was a whimsical smile in thelawyer's eyes.
"It was." The millionaire was not smiling. "But she was right. It setme to thinking, and I began to follow up those ten-spots--the ones thatI could trace. Jove! what a mess I'd made of it! Oh, some of them wereall right, of course, and I made THOSE fifties on the spot. But theothers--! I tell you, Ned, money that isn't earned is the most riskything in the world. If I'd left half those wretches alone, they'd havebraced up and helped themselves and made men of themselves, maybe. Asit was--Well, you never can tell as to the results of a so-called'good' action. From my experience I should say they are every whit asdangerous as the bad ones."
The lawyer laughed outright.
"But, my dear fellow, that's just where the organized charity comes in.Don't you see?"
"Oh, yes, I know--Case number twenty-three thousand seven hundred andforty-one! And that's all right, of course. Relief of some sort isabsolutely necessary. But I'd like to see a little warm sympathyinjected into it, some way. Give the machine a heart, say, as well ashands and a head."
"Then why don't you try it yourself?"
"Not I!" His gesture of dissent was emphatic. "I have tried it, in away, and failed. That's why I'd like some one else to tackle the job.And that brings me right back to my original question. I'm wonderingwhat my money will do, when I'm done with it. I'd like to have one ofmy own kin have it--if I was sure of him. Money is a queer proposition,Ned, and it's capable of--'most anything."
"It is. You're right."
"What I can do with it, and what some one else can do with it, are twoquite different matters. I don't consider my efforts to circulate itwisely, or even harmlessly, exactly what you'd call a howling success.Whatever I've done, I've always been criticized for not doing somethingelse. If I gave a costly entertainment, I was accused of showyostentation. If I didn't give it, I was accused of not putting moneyinto honest circulation. If I donated to a church, it was calledconscience money; and if I didn't donate to it, they said I was meanand miserly. So much for what I've done. I was just wondering--what theother fellow'd do with it."
"Why worry? 'T won't be your fault."
"But it will--if I give it to him. Great Scott, Ned! what money doesfor folks, sometimes--folks that aren't used to it! Look at Bixby; andlook at that poor little Marston girl, throwing herself away on thatworthless scamp of a Gowing who's only after her money, as everybody(but herself) knows! And if it doesn't make knaves and martyrs of them,ten to one it does make fools of 'em. They're worse than a kid with adollar on circus day; and they use just about as much sense spendingtheir pile, too. You should have heard dad tell about his pals in theeighties that struck it rich in the gold mines. One bought up everygrocery store in town and instituted a huge free grab-bag for thepopulace; and another dropped his hundred thousand in the dice boxbefore it was a week old. I wonder what those cousins of mine back Eastare like!"
"If you're fearful, better take Case number twenty-three thousand sevenhundred and forty-one," smiled the lawyer.
"Hm-m; I suppose so," ejaculated the other grimly, getting to his feet."Well, I must be off. It's biscuit time, I see."
A moment later the door of the lawyer's sumptuously appointed officeclosed behind him. Not twenty-four hours afterward, however, it openedto admit him again. He was alert, eager-eyed, and smiling. He lookedten years younger. Even the office boy who ushered him in cocked acurious eye at him.
The man at the great flat-topped desk gave a surprised ejaculation.
"Hullo, Fulton! Those biscuits must be agreeing with you," he laughed."Mind telling me their name?"
"Ned, I've got a scheme. I think I can carry it out." Mr. Stanley G.Fulton strode across the room and dropped himself into the waitingchair. "Remember those cousins back East? Well, I'm going to find outwhich of 'em I want for my heir."
"Another case of investigating before investing, eh?"
"Exactly."
"Well, that's like you. What is it, a little detective work? Going toget acquainted with them, I suppose, and see how they treat you. Thenyou can size them up as to hearts and habits, and drop the golden pluminto the lap of the worthy man, eh?"
"Yes, and no. But not the way you say. I'm going to give 'em say fiftyor a hundred thousand apiece, and--"
"GIVE it to them--NOW?"
"Sure! How'm I going to know how they'll spend money till they have itto spend?"
"I know; but--"
"Oh, I've planned all that. Don't worry. Of course you'll have to fixit up for me. I shall leave instructions with you, and when the timecomes all you have to do is to carry them out."
The lawyer came erect in his chair.
"LEAVE instructions! But you, yourself--?"
"Oh, I'm going to be there, in Hillerton."
"There? Hillerton?"
"Yes, where the cousins live, you know. Of course I want to see how itworks."
"Humph! I suppose you think you'll find out--with you watching theirevery move!" The lawyer had settled back in his chair, an ironicalsmile on his lips.
"Oh, they won't know me, of course, except as John Smith."
"John Smith!" The lawyer was sitting erect again.
"Yes. I'm going to take that name--for a time."
"Nonsense, Fulton! Have you lost your senses?"
"No." The millionaire still smiled imperturbably. "Really, my dear Ned,I'm disappointed in you. You don't seem to realize the possibilities ofthis thing."
"Oh, yes, I do--perhaps better than you, old man," retorted the otherwith an expressive glance.
"Oh, come, Ned, listen! I've got three cousins in Hillerton. I neversaw them, and they never saw me. I'm going to give them a tidy littlesum of money apiece, and then have the fun of watching them spend it.Any harm in that, especially as it's no one's business what I do withmy money?"
"N--no, I suppose not--if you can carry such a wild scheme through."
"I can, I think. I'm going to be John Smith."
"Nice distinctive name!"
"I chose a colorless one on purpose. I'm going to be a colorlessperson, you see."
"Oh! And--er--do you think Mr. Stanley G. Fulton, multi-millionaire,with his pictured face in half the papers and magazines from theAtlantic to the Pacific, CAN hide that face behind a colorless JohnSmith?"
"Maybe not. But he can hide it behind a nice little close-croppedbeard." The millionaire stroked his smooth chin reflectively.
"Humph! How large is Hillerton?"
"Eight or ten thousand. Nice little New England town, I'm told."
"Hm-m. And your--er--business in Hillerton, that will enable you to bethe observing fly on your cousins' walls?"
"Yes, I've thought that all out, too; and that's another brilliantstroke. I'm going to be a genealogist. I'm going to be at work tracingthe Blaisdell family--their name is Blaisdell. I'm writing a book whichnecessitates the collection of an endless amount of data. Now how aboutthat fly's chances of observation. Eh?"
"Mighty poor, if he's swatted--and that's what he will be! New Englandhousewives are death on flies, I understand."
"Well, I'll risk this one."
"You poor fellow!" There were exasperation and amusement in thelawyer's eyes, but there was only mock sympathy in his voice. "And tothink I've known you all these years, and never suspected it, Fulton!"
The man who owned twenty millions still smiled imperturbably.
"Oh, yes, I know what you mean, but I'm not crazy. And really I'minterested in genealogy, too, and I've been thinking for some time I'dgo digging about the roots of my ancestral tree. I have dug a little,in years gone. My mother was a Blaisdell, you know. Her grandfather wasbrother to some ancestor of these Hillerton Blaisdells; and I really aminterested in collecting Blaisdell data. So that's all straight. Ishall be telling no fibs. And think of the opportunity it gives me!Besides, I shall try to board with on
e of them. I've decided that."
"Upon my word, a pretty little scheme!"
"Yes, I knew you'd appreciate it, the more you thought about it." Mr.Stanley G. Fulton's blue eyes twinkled a little.
With a disdainful gesture the lawyer brushed this aside.
"Do you mind telling me how you happened to think of it, yourself?"
"Not a bit. 'Twas a little booklet got out by a Trust Company."
"It sounds like it!"
"Oh, they didn't suggest exactly this, I'll admit; but they did suggestthat, if you were fearful as to the way your heirs would handle theirinheritance, you could create a trust fund for their benefit while youwere living, and then watch the way the beneficiaries spent the income,as well as the way the trust fund itself was managed. In this way youcould observe the effects of your gifts, and at the same time be ableto change them if you didn't like results. That gave me an idea. I'vejust developed it. That's all. I'm going to make my cousins a littlerich, and see which, if any of them, can stand being very rich."
"But the money, man! How are you going to drop a hundred thousanddollars into three men's laps, and expect to get away without aninvestigation as to the why and wherefore of such a singularproceeding?"
"That's where your part comes in," smiled the millionaire blandly."Besides, to be accurate, one of the laps is--er--a petticoat one."
"Oh, indeed! So much the worse, maybe. But--And so this is where I comein, is it? Well, and suppose I refuse to come in?"
"Regretfully I shall have to employ another attorney."
"Humph! Well?"
"But you won't refuse." The blue eyes opposite were still twinkling."In the first place, you're my good friend--my best friend. Youwouldn't be seen letting me start off on a wild-goose chase like thiswithout your guiding hand at the helm to see that I didn't come acropper."
"Aren't you getting your metaphors a trifle mixed?" This time thelawyer's eyes were twinkling.
"Eh? What? Well, maybe. But I reckon you get my meaning. Besides, whatI want you to do is a mere routine of regular business, with you."
"It sounds like it. Routine, indeed!"
"But it is--your part. Listen. I'm off for South America, say, on anexploring tour. In your charge I leave certain papers with instructionsthat on the first day of the sixth month of my absence (I being unheardfrom), you are to open a certain envelope and act according toinstructions within. Simplest thing in the world, man. Now isn't it?"
"Oh, very simple--as you put it."
"Well, meanwhile I'll start for South America--alone, of course; and,so far as you're concerned, that ends it. If on the way, somewhere, Idetermine suddenly on a change of destination, that is none of youraffair. If, say in a month or two, a quiet, inoffensive gentleman bythe name of Smith arrives in Hillerton on the legitimate and perfectlyrespectable business of looking up a family pedigree, that also is noneof your concern." With a sudden laugh the lawyer fell back in his chair.
"By Jove, Fulton, if I don't believe you'll pull this absurd thing off!"
"There! Now you're talking like a sensible man, and we can getsomewhere. Of course I'll pull it off! Now here's my plan. In orderbest to judge how my esteemed relatives conduct themselves under thesudden accession of wealth, I must see them first without it, ofcourse. Hence, I plan to be in Hillerton some months before your letterand the money arrive. I intend, indeed, to be on the friendliest termswith every Blaisdell in Hillerton before that times comes."
"But can you? Will they accept you without references or introduction?"
"Oh, I shall have the best of references and introductions. BobChalmers is the president of a bank there. Remember Bob? Well, I shalltake John Smith in and introduce him to Bob some day. After that,Bob'll introduce John Smith? See? All I need is a letter as to myintegrity and respectability, I reckon, so my kinsmen won't suspect meof designs on their spoons when I ask to board with them. You see, I'ma quiet, retiring gentleman, and I don't like noisy hotels."
With an explosive chuckle the lawyer clapped his knee. "Fulton, this isabsolutely the richest thing I ever heard of! I'd give a farm to be afly on YOUR wall and see you do it. I'm blest if I don't think I'll goto Hillerton myself--to see Bob. By George, I will go and see Bob!"
"Of course," agreed the other serenely. "Why not? Besides, it will bethe most natural thing in the world--business, you know. In fact, Ishould think you really ought to go, in connection with the bequests."
"Why, to be sure." The lawyer frowned thoughtfully. "How much are yougoing to give them?"
"Oh, a hundred thousand apiece, I reckon."
"That ought to do--for pin money."
"Oh, well, I want them to have enough, you know, for it to be a realtest of what they would do with wealth. And it must be cash--nosecurities. I want them to do their own investing."
"But how are you going to fix it? What excuse are you going to give fordropping a hundred thousand into their laps like that? You can't tellyour real purpose, naturally! You'd defeat your own ends."
"That part we'll have to fix up in the letter of instructions. I thinkwe can. I've got a scheme."
"I'll warrant you have! I'll believe anything of you now. But what areyou going to do afterward--when you've found out what you want to know,I mean? Won't it be something of a shock, when John Smith turns intoMr. Stanley G. Fulton? Have you thought of that?"
"Y-yes, I've thought of that, and I will confess my ideas are a littlehazy, in spots. But I'm not worrying. Time enough to think of thatpart. Roughly, my plan is this now. There'll be two letters ofinstructions: one to open in six months, the other to be opened in,say, a couple of years, or so. (I want to give myself plenty of timefor my observations, you see.) The second letter will really give youfinal instructions as to the settling of my estate--my will. I'll haveto make some sort of one, I suppose."
"But, good Heavens, Stanley, you--you--" the lawyer came to a helplesspause. His eyes were startled.
"Oh, that's just for emergency, of course, in caseanything--er--happened. What I really intend is that long before thesecond letter of instructions is due to be opened, Mr. Stanley G.Fulton will come back from his South American explorations. He'll thenbe in a position to settle his affairs to suit himself, and--er--make anew will. Understand?"
"Oh, I see. But--there's John Smith? How about Smith?"
The millionaire smiled musingly, and stroked his chin again.
"Smith? Oh! Well, Smith will have finished collecting Blaisdell data,of course, and will be off to parts unknown. We don't have to troubleourselves with Smith any longer."
"Fulton, you're a wizard," laughed the lawyer. "But now about thecousins. Who are they? You know their names, of course."
"Oh, yes. You see I've done a little digging already--some yearsago--looking up the Blaisdell family. (By the way, that'll come in finenow, won't it?) And an occasional letter from Bob has kept me posted asto deaths and births in the Hillerton Blaisdells. I always meant tohunt them up some time, they being my nearest kith and kin. Well, withwhat I already had, and with what Bob has written me, I know thesefacts."
He paused, pulled a small notebook from his pocket, and consulted it.
"There are two sons and a daughter, children of Rufus Blaisdell. Rufusdied years ago, and his widow married a man by the name of Duff. Butshe's dead now. The elder son is Frank Blaisdell. He keeps a grocerystore. The other is James Blaisdell. He works in a real estate office.The daughter, Flora, never married. She's about forty-two or three, Ibelieve, and does dressmaking. James Blaisdell has a son, Fred,seventeen, and two younger children. Frank Blaisdell has one daughter,Mellicent. That's the extent of my knowledge, at present. But it'senough for our purpose."
"Oh, anything's enough--for your purpose! What are you going to dofirst?"
"I've done it. You'll soon be reading in your morning paper that Mr.Stanley G. Fulton, the somewhat eccentric multi-millionaire, is aboutto start for South America, and that it is hinted he is planning tofinance a gigantic exploring expedition. Th
e accounts of what he'sgoing to explore will vary all the way from Inca antiquities to thesource of the Amazon. I've done a lot of talking to-day, and a gooddeal of cautioning as to secrecy, etc. It ought to bear fruit byto-morrow, or the day after, at the latest. I'm going to start nextweek, and I'm really going EXPLORING, too--though not exactly as theythink. I came in to-day to make a business appointment for to-morrow,please. A man starting on such a hazardous journey must be prepared,you understand. I want to leave my affairs in such shape that you willknow exactly what to do--in emergency. I may come to-morrow?"
The lawyer hesitated, his face an odd mixture of determination andirresolution.
"Oh, hang it all--yes. Of course you may come. To-morrow at ten--ifthey don't shut you up before."
With a boyish laugh Mr. Stanley G. Fulton leaped to his feet.
"Thanks. To-morrow at ten, then." At the door he turned back jauntily."And, say, Ned, what'll you bet I don't grow fat and young over thisthing? What'll you bet I don't get so I can eat real meat and 'tatersagain?"