t read the afternoon
papers. He had been drawn to Evan's room on his wanderings by his
insatiable curiosity. Nothing in the room escaped his sharp, furtive
glances. The newspapers were lying about. Evan made no attempt to put
them away. The old man had to learn soon anyhow.

His glance was caught by his photograph in one of the sheets. He
pounced on it. Evan watched him slyly. The old man's face was a study
in astonishment.

"What's this!" he cried. "Do you know about it? Half a million for
charity! Who got up this lie!" He was as indignant as if he had been
accused of stealing the money.

"One of the papers mentioned the exact sum as four hundred thousand,"
said Evan innocently.

"It's a hoax."

"And they said U.S. government bonds, so I supposed the blackmailers
must have turned over what they got from you."

"Why should they go to all that trouble just to give it to charity?"

Evan was careful to maintain his detached air. "Well, I thought maybe
they were not common crooks, but socialists or anarchists or something
like that, who believed in dividing things up, you know."

"The scoundrels!" cried the old man. "I'll put a stop to their game.
I'll see Verplanck and get the bonds back."

"You can't see him to-day," said Evan carelessly. "It's after five.
He lives in the country."

"I'll see him in the morning, then."

"You'll have a chance to talk it over with your son in the meantime."

"What's George got to do with it? The money's mine!"

"Of course," said Evan carelessly.

He let the old man rage on without interruption. When he saw his
opportunity he said offhand: "Too bad to spoil this elegant publicity,
though."

"What do you mean?"

"It's in all the papers. Every man in the country will read it before
to-morrow morning. It will make over your reputation in a night."

"What do I care about my reputation?"

"If you call the scheme off, think how they'll get after you! Not only
an obscure sheet like the _Clarion_, but the entire press of the
country. Like a pack of hounds. They'll never let the story drop."

This thought gave the old man pause. He scowled at Evan.

Evan was making a pretence of cleaning a palette. "You'd hardly care
to venture out in the street after that. You'd be hooted; stoned,
perhaps. It's bad enough already. The reason you hired me was to
prevent unpleasant experiences. But if every paper in town got after
you--well, you couldn't go out exc