be so easy to sell the house,' Tom went on. 'That's
our worst millstone. It was built for large hospitality, and we
have a good many friends, and they come every week and jump on to
the millstone.'

"'If one has to have a millstone he should choose it with
discretion,' I said. 'It doesn't pay to get one that is too
inviting. You'll have to swim around with yours for a while, and
watch your chance to slip it on to some other fellow's neck. You
don't want your son to be a millstonaire. Some day a man of
millions may find it a comfortable fit, an' relieve you. They're
buyin' places all about here.'

"Tom left an' began work on our programme. The burglary was well
executed an' advertised. It achieved a fair amount of
publicity--not too much, you know, but enough. The place was
photographed by the reporters with the placard 'For Sale' showin'
plainly on the front lawn. The advertisin' was worth almost as
much as the diamonds. Tom said that his wife had lost weight since
the sad event.

"'Of course,' I said. 'You can't take ten pounds of jewelry from a
woman without reducin' her weight. She must have had a pint o'
diamonds.'

"'Pictures an' glowin' accounts of the villa were printed in all
the papers, an' soon a millionaire wrote that it was just the place
he was lookin' for. I closed the deal with him. It was Bill
Warburton, who used to go to school with me up there on the hills.
He had long been dreamin' of a home in Pointview.

"They used to say that Bill was a fool, but he proved an alibi.
Went West years ago an' made a fortune, an' thought it would be
nice to come back an' finish his life where it began, near the
greatest American city. I drew the papers, an' Bill an' I got
together often an' talked of the old happy days, now glimmering in
the far past--some thirty-five years away,

[Illustration: Bill an' I got together often an' talked of the old
happy days.]

"Well, they enlarged the house--that was already big enough for a
hotel--an' built stables an' kennels an' pheasant yards an' houses
for ducks an' geese an' peacocks. They stocked up with fourteen
horses, twelve hounds, nine collies, four setters, nineteen
servants, innumerable fowls, an' four motor-cars, an' started in
pursuit o' happiness.

"You see, they had no children, an' all these beasts an' birds were
intended to supply the deficiency in human life, an' assist in the
campaign. Well, somehow, it didn't succeed, an' one day