r the dictates of a
benevolent altruism.

"What success _have_ you achieved?" she asked, interested. "When you
left me, you were on your way to find a fortune. Did you find it?"

"I have not actually placed my hands on it yet," admitted Uncle Chris.
"But it is hovering in the air all round me. I can hear the beating of
the wings of the dollar-bills as they flutter to and fro, almost
within reach. Sooner or later I shall grab them. I never forget, my
dear, that I have a task before me--to restore to you the money of
which I deprived you. Some day--be sure--I shall do it. Some day you
will receive a letter from me, containing a large sum--five
thousand--ten thousand--twenty thousand--whatever it may be, with the
simple words 'First Instalment.'" He repeated the phrase, as if it
pleased him. "First Instalment!"

Jill hugged his arm. She was in the mood in which she used to listen
to him ages ago telling her fairy stories.

"Go on!" she cried. "Go on! It's wonderful! Once upon a time Uncle
Chris was walking along Fifth Avenue, when he happened to meet a poor
old woman gathering sticks for firewood. She looked so old and tired
that he was sorry for her, so he gave her ten cents which he had
borrowed from the janitor, and suddenly she turned into a beautiful
girl and said 'I am a fairy! In return for your kindness I grant you
three wishes!' And Uncle Chris thought for a moment, and said, 'I want
twenty thousand dollars to send to Jill!' And the fairy said, 'It
shall be attended to. And the next article?'"

"It is all very well to joke," protested Uncle Chris, pained by this
flippancy, "but let me tell you that I shall not require magic
assistance to become a rich man. Do you realize that at houses like
Mrs. Waddesleigh Peagrim's I am meeting men all the time who have only
to say one little word to make me a millionaire? They are fat, grey
men with fishy eyes and large waistcoats, and they sit smoking cigars
and brooding on what they are going to do to the market next day. If I
were a mind-reader I could have made a dozen fortunes by now. I sat
opposite that old pirate, Bruce Bishop, for over an hour the very day
before he and his gang sent Consolidated Pea-Nuts down twenty points!
If I had known what was in the wind, I doubt if I could have
restrained myself from choking his intentions out of the fellow. Well,
what I am trying to point out is that one of these days one of these
old oysters will have a fleeting moment of