ed.

"I found it out for myself," he said stiffly. "Since then I have
learned that it is common rumor in the village. And the old man, even
when I--I spoke of it directly to him, never troubled to deny it."

"Shucks!" said the little doctor crossly. "He liked it. It saved his
pride."

"Saved--his--pride!"

The doctor nodded.

"Mr. O'Neill," he said, "country folks stare less unkindly at a miser
than at some other things. It hurt Adam, knowing his guilt, to see the
old Craig home going to rack and ruin. Had a lot of money when his
father died. A lot. And he wanted folks to think he still had it.
But he didn't. Went through it, Mr. O'Neill, hitting the high spots.
Came home a penniless wreck of a man, body and soul and pocketbook
warped beyond recall. I was there when they settled up his estate. As
a matter of fact my brother was his lawyer. And what he hadn't lost in
gambling and dissipation he lost speculating in Wall Street. Oh, he
never tried the miser stunt with me. He knew that I knew that he
hadn't a cent."

"Not a cent!" echoed Kenny feebly. "Not a cent!" He cleared his
throat. "Not--a cent."

"Not a cent," said the doctor cheerfully. "And barely a living from
that farm."

"Dr. Cole," said Kenny steadily, "he may have lost his own money. Of
that I know nothing. But what about his sister's?"

"Why," said the doctor at once, "she hadn't any. Old Craig senior left
it all to Adam. She ran away, you know, and went on the stage. He
never forgot it. 'Tisn't much of a story. She was a darned pretty
girl, high-spirited and clever, and the old man was a devil like Adam.
A scandal of that kind fussed us up pretty much in those days. I
remember I went to see Cordelia once in some old-time play. She was
wearing those old gowns that Joan, poor child, wears now. Always had a
feeling after that that I was a part of the scandal. Mother," he added
dryly, "felt so too."

The doctor shook his head lugubriously.

"She was a widow when she died," reminded Kenny.

"Yes."

"The money I mean must have come from her husband and she entrusted it
to Adam for Joan and Donald."

"But my dear fellow," said the doctor kindly, "he hadn't any. He was
an actor chap. Cordelia came home to the farm to die while Adam was in
Europe. She hadn't a cent."

"Not a cent!" said Kenny again. "Not a cent!"

"Not a cent," repeated the mystified doctor.

"Oh, my God!" said Kenny. "And I've dug up the farm!