e already
know. But in Milwaukee, where Mr. Browning had become a leading
citizen, it was not known. It was entirely inconsistent with what was
believed to be his character. For Mr. Browning was president of one
charitable society and treasurer of another. At the annual meetings of
these societies he was always called upon to speak, and his allusions
to the poverty and privations of those who were cared for by these
societies never failed to produce an impression.

It was popularly supposed that he gave away large sums in charity.
Indeed, he admitted the fact, but explained the absence of his name
from subscription papers by saying: "All my gifts are anonymous.
Instead of giving my name, I prefer to put down 'Cash,' so much, or 'A
Friend,' such another sum. I don't wish to influence others, but it
jars upon me to have my name ostentatiously paraded in the public
prints."

Now, in all subscriptions there are donations ascribed to "Cash" and
"A Friend," and whenever these occurred, it was generally supposed
they represented Mr. Browning. But, to let the reader into a little
secret, this was only a shrewd device of Mr. Browning's to have the
reputation of a philanthropist at little or no expense, for, as a
matter of fact, he never contributed at all to the charities in which
he seemed to take such an interest!

In a pleasant room on the second floor sat the pseudo-philanthropist.
The room was furnished as a library. At a writing table, poring over
what looked like an account book, he looked the picture of comfort and
respectability. A few well-chosen engravings adorned the walls. A
pleasant light was diffused about the room from a chandelier suspended
over the table.

Thomas Browning leaned back in his chair, and a placid smile
overspread his naturally harsh features. He looked about him, and his
thoughts somehow ran back to a time when he was very differently
situated.

"Five years ago to-night," he said, "I was well-nigh desperate. I
hadn't a cent to bless myself with, nor was the prospect of getting
one particularly bright. How I lived, for a considerable time, I
hardly know. I did have a notion at one time, when I was particularly
down on my luck, of committing suicide, and so ending the struggle
once for all. It would have been a great mistake!" he added after a
pause. "I didn't foresee at the time the prosperous years that lay
before me. Frederick Walton's money changed my whole life. Ten
thousand dollars isn