out Peckham's little speculations was that
they all succeeded. It made the other men rather mad because he did not
care more.
"But that's always the way," Freddy Dillingham remarked, with an air of
profound philosophy. "It's the fellers that don't care a darn that have
all the luck."
When Peckham sold out of the Libby Carew, he doubled his money, and the
moment he touched the "Trailing Arbutus," up she went. By the first of
May he found himself the possessor of nearly three thousand dollars'
worth of "stuff" distributed among several ventures. Of course, he was
credited with five times as much, and the other men began to think that
if he did not set up a dogcart pretty soon, or at least a yellow
buckboard, they should have their opinion of him. If the truth must be
known, Peckham would not have given a nickle for a dozen dog-carts. It
was all very well to make a little money; it was the first time he had
discovered a taste for anything in the nature of a game, and the higher
the stakes came to be, the more worth while it seemed. Nevertheless, his
mind, in those days of early May, when he was steadily rising in the
esteem of his associates, was very little occupied with the calculation
of his profits.
He had long since arranged with Hillerton to take part of his vacation
the middle of May, and the anticipation of that concert was more
inspiring to him than all the gold mines in Colorado. As the time drew
near, a consuming thirst took possession of him, and not a gambler of
them all was the prey to a more feverish impatience than he. He
tormented himself with thoughts of every possible disaster which might
come to thwart him at the last minute. Visions of a railroad accident
which should result in the wholesale destruction of the entire
orchestra, haunted his mind. Another great fire might wipe Chicago out
of existence. The one thing which his imagination failed to conceive,
was the possibility that he, Lewis Peckham, might be deterred from
hearing the concert when once it should take place. In the interim he
made repeated calculations of the number of hours that must be lived
through before May 16th. Hillerton came across a half sheet of paper
covered with such calculations, and was somewhat puzzled by the
prominence of the figure 24. An odd price to pay for a mining stock. He
was afraid it was the "Adeline Maria," a notorious swindle. Well,
Peckham might as well get his lesson at the hands of the faithless
Adelin
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