CHAPTER XVIII
THE PRODIGAL AT SEA
Harrison's departure left Brewster in sore straits. It forced him tosettle down to the actual management of his own affairs. He was notindolent, but this was not the kind of work he cared to encourage. Theprivate accounts he had kept revealed some appalling facts when he wentover them carefully one morning at four o'clock, after an all-nightsession with the ledger. With infinite pains he had managed to rise tosomething over $450,000 in six months. But to his original million ithad been necessary to add $58,550 which he had realized from Lumber andFuel and some of his other "unfortunate" operations. At least $40,000would come to him ultimately through the sale of furniture and otherbelongings, and then there would be something like $20,000 interest toconsider. But luck had aided him in getting rid of his money. The bankfailure had cost him $113,468.25, and "Nopper" Harrison had helped himto the extent of $60,000. The reckless but determined effort to give aball had cost $30,000. What he had lost during his illness had beenpretty well offset by the unlucky concert tour. The Florida trip,including medical attention, the cottage and living expenses, hadentailed the expenditure of $18,500, and his princely dinners andtheater parties had footed up $31,000. Taking all the facts intoconsideration, he felt that he had done rather well as far as he hadgone, but the hardest part of the undertaking was yet to come. He wasstill in possession of an enormous sum, which must disappear beforeSeptember 23d. About $40,000 had already been expended in the yachtingproject.
He determined to begin at once a systematic campaign of extinction. Ithad been his intention before sailing to dispose of many householdarticles, either by sale or gift. As he did not expect to return to NewYork before the latter part of August, this would minimize thestruggles of the last month. But the prospective "profit" to beacquired from keeping his apartment open was not to be overlooked. Hecould easily count upon a generous sum for salaries and runningexpenses. Once on the other side of the Atlantic, he hoped that newopportunities for extravagance would present themselves, and he fanciedhe could leave the final settlement of his affairs for the last month.As the day for sailing approached, the world again seemed bright tothis most mercenary of spendthrifts.
A farewell consultation with his attorneys proved encouraging, for tothem his chances to win the extraordinary contest seemed of the best.He was in high spirits as he left them, exhilarated by the sensationthat the world lay before him. In the elevator he encountered ColonelPrentiss Drew. On both sides the meeting was not without itsdifficulties. The Colonel had been dazed by the inexplicable situationbetween Monty and his daughter, whose involutions he found hard tounderstand. Her summary of the effort she had made to effect areconciliation, after hearing the story of the bank, was rather vague.She had done her utmost, she said, to be nice to him and make him feelthat she appreciated his generosity, but he took it in the mostdisagreeable fashion. Colonel Drew knew that things were somehow wrong;but he was too strongly an American father to interfere in a matter ofthe affections. It distressed him, for he had a liking for Monty, andBarbara's "society judgments," as he called them, had no weight withhim. When he found himself confronted with Brewster in the elevator,the old warmth revived and the old hope that the quarrel might have anend. His greeting was cheery.
"You have not forgotten, Brewster," he said, as they shook hands, "thatyou have a dollar or two with us?"
"No," said Monty, "not exactly. And I shall be calling upon you forsome of it very soon. I'm off on Thursday for a cruise in theMediterranean."
"I've heard something of it." They had reached the main floor andColonel Drew had drawn his companion out of the crowd into the rotunda."The money is at your disposal at any moment. But aren't you setting apretty lively pace, my boy? You know I've always liked you, and I knewyour grandfather rather well. He was a good old chap, Monty, and hewould hate to see you make ducks and drakes of his fortune."
There was something in the Colonel's manner that softened Brewster,much as he hated to take a reproof from Barbara's father. Once again hewas tempted to tell the truth, but he pulled himself up in time. "It'sa funny old world, Colonel," he said; "and sometimes one's nearestfriend is a stranger. I know I seem a fool; but, after all, why isn'tit good philosophy to make the most of a holiday and then settle backto work?"
"That is all very well, Monty," and Colonel Drew was entirely serious;"but the work is a hundred times harder after you have played to thelimit You'll find that you are way beyond it. It's no joke getting backinto the harness."
"Perhaps you are right, Colonel, but at least I shall have something tolook back upon--even if the worst comes." And Monty instinctivelystraightened his shoulders.
They turned to leave the building, and the Colonel had a moment ofweakness.
"Do you know, Monty," he said, "my daughter is awfully cut up aboutthis business. She is plucky and tries not to show it, but after all agirl doesn't get over that sort of thing all in a moment. I am notsaying"--it seemed necessary to recede a step "that it would be an easymatter to patch up. But I like you, Monty, and if any man could do it,you can."
"Colonel, I wish I might," and Brewster found that he did not hesitate."For your sake I very much wish the situation were as simple as itseems. But there are some things a man can't forget, and--well--Barbarahas shown in a dozen ways that she has no faith in me."
"Well, I've got faith in you, and a lot of it. Take care of yourself,and when you get back you can count on me. Good-bye."
On Thursday morning the "Flitter" steamed off down the bay, and theflight of the prodigal grand-son was on. No swifter, cleaner, handsomerboat ever sailed out of the harbor of New York, and it was a merrycrowd that she carried out to sea. Brewster's guests numberedtwenty-five, and they brought with them a liberal supply of maids,valets, and luggage. It was not until many weeks later that he read thevivid descriptions of the weighing of the anchor which were printed inthe New York papers, but by that time he was impervious to theirridicule.
On deck, watching the rugged silhouette of the city disappear into themists, were Dan DeMille and Mrs. Dan, Peggy Gray, "Rip" Van Winkle,Reginald Vanderpool, Joe Bragdon, Dr. Lotless and his sister Isabel,Mr. and Mrs. Valentine--the official chaperon--and their daughter Mary,"Subway" Smith, Paul Pettingill, and some others hardly lessdistinguished. As Monty looked over the eager crowd, he recognized witha peculiar glow that here were represented his best and truestfriendships. The loyalty of these companions had been tested, and heknew that they would stand by him through everything.
There was no little surprise when it was learned that Dan DeMille wasready to sail. Many of the idle voyagers ventured the opinion that hewould try to desert the boat in mid-ocean if he saw a chance to getback to his club on a west-bound steamer. But DeMille, big, indolent,and indifferent, smiled carelessly, and hoped he wouldn't botheranybody if he "stuck to the ship" until the end.
For a time the sea and the sky and the talk of the crowd were enoughfor the joy of living. But after a few peaceful days there was a lull,and it was then that Monty gained the nickname of Aladdin, which clungto him. From somewhere, from the hold or the rigging or from under thesea, he brought forth four darkies from the south who strummed guitarsand sang ragtime melodies. More than once during the voyage they wereuseful.
"Peggy," said Brewster one day, when the sky was particularly clear andthings were quiet on deck, "on the whole I prefer this to crossing theNorth River on a ferry. I rather like it, don't you?"
"It seems like a dream," she cried, her eyes, bright, her hair blowingin the wind.
"And, Peggy, do you know what I tucked away in a chest down in mycabin? A lot of books that you like--some from the old garret. I'vesaved them to read on rainy days."
Peggy did not speak, but the blood began to creep into her face and shelooked wistfully across the water. Then she smiled.
"I didn't know you could save anything," she said, weakly.
"Come now, Peggy, that is too much."
"I didn't mean to hurt you. But you
must not forget, Monty, that thereare other years to follow this one. Do you know what I mean?"
"Peggy, dear, please don't lecture me," he begged, so piteously thatshe could not be serious.
"The class is dismissed for to-day, Monty," she said, airily. "But theprofessor knows his duty and won't let you off so easily next time."
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