Argosy, Vol. 120, No. 1 — page 48: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

38 “ But that isn’t all the gold, not a spoon- ful of the total—scarcely a grain—and what’s the use? Let it rust there, forgotten. Why dignify it with all this worry? As Jong as I live, at least, it shan’t get out to work any more harm. That’s the way I figure it out.” “‘ Touched, perhaps, but not mad.”’ That was Marta’s judgment. She felt very sorry for him. “That place you saw,” he began, rest- lessly, ‘‘ that’s the inside of what was once a ship—a small schooner. It was wrecked, driven up on the shore here, buried. All the sand about here keeps on the move under - the everlasting winds, and when I found it - the hulk was scarcely showing. I built the _ cabin against it as a wind-break, to keep it - concealed forever. At that time, though, I had a very different notion of values—yes, very different. ** Money—that’s the curse that? s on all of us, Miss Kree. I didn’t think so in those _ days, though. I was brought up thinking money something to be had without effort— my divine right—and to be spent without - thought. I learned plenty of ways of spend- ing it, too, when I was a kid. The curse began working early in my case. ‘“‘T had a foster-father. He adopted me - from an orphanage. His wife had died and _ her baby with her. He was impulsive, vio- lent-tempered, vindictive—and yet not a bad sort in many ways. Not half bad. He adopted me for the sole purpose of having © an heir, somebody to leave his money to. There had been a violent row with the rest of his family—over money, of course. He swore none of his kin would get a cent. Hence my adoption. I—nobody—was to have it all. Pure spitefulness, of course. Naturally, I learned all this much later. ‘The old man had plenty. He brought me up in a way he must have considered handsome—a_ tutor, unlimited pocket money, great expectations. A rotten life for a kid—lonely, bad habits, no sense of values. I was the natural product of that sort of thing—utterly useless. ‘At the height of it, while I was riding the wave, I got smitten with a fool girl who had a pile of her own. A nice, useless, yellow-haired girl that I mistook for the i - THE ARGOSY. ‘acme of all the virtues. Well, I was only twenty. “ The lights went out at the height of the party. The old man was suddenly ill, scared to death of dying. He sent for his family in death-bed repentance, made up the row, and managed to scrawl his name to a new will. That let me out. Rather rough, but it was his own money, and he had a perfect right to do it. ““ He was decently generous at that. I got a thousand, and some good advice about making my own way.” Dean laughed shortly. “Fine advice, telling a kid brought up that way, to get out and carve a career, eh?” “‘T think that was brutal!”’ Marta Kree’s eyes sparkled indignation. “ Well,” Dean considered, ‘“a_ little rough, maybe—”’ ‘‘ What a spiteful old man he must have been!” ‘““T don’t think he was really spiteful. Probably, too late, he realized what I needed. And, of course, he’d made up the other row, and felt his own kind had a bet- ter claim. No, he was the average sort— bad and good in streaks. And I was a fine young fool, crazy about a yellow-haired fluffy girl. “I realized I would need another fortune if I was going to win her. To do her jus- tice, she let me know that at the start. But she said she was willing to wait a year or so. Very generous she was about it, according to her own light. I don’t suppose she had much more idea of how money is gotten than I had. “In those days the papers were full of news about the Klondike. I couldn’t think of any way to get rich quicker. So I said - good-by to the girl, and started off. Can you imagine that? A fool kid, with a couple of suits of clothes in a suit-case, a railroad ticket, the change from a thousand dollars in his pocket, not even dead sure whether this Klondike was in the arctic or the trop- ics. I give you my word, Miss Kree, I traveled to Skagway wearing patent leather shoes, and a loud, checked paddock coat. That was my outfit! And yet there were thousands as bad as I was. “It was in Skagway that I got my first _ -_ (SCCOLAN) Gk Ol C(O