12
HOME AND FARM MAGAZINE SEOTTON
By
George Barr
McCutcheon
HOME AND FARM MAGAZINE SECTION SERIAL.
A Fool and His Money
Copyright, 1913,
By Geo. Ban
McCutcheon.
SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS
INSTALLMENTS.
In the opening installments of "A
Q Tool and His Money," Geo. Barr Mc-
Cutt'heon"s charming novel, serial
Q rights for which have been specially
obtained for the Home and farm
3 Magazine 8ectiou, we learn of John
$ Bellamy Smart, the young man who
is telling this story. -He has just
j written his first novel, and at the
$ same time has fallen heir to an im-
$ mense fortune left him by his uncle.
He is 35 years of ago.
After a visit to London, Smart
takes a trip on the River Dannbe.
After finding an old world town, he
5 discovers an ancient castle, which he
$ purc hases from its owner, the Count.
With his secretary, Poopendvke, he
s takes possoBsion of the immonse
structure, which is supposed to be
S tenanted only by the caretaker and
$ his family, the Uchmieks. To Smart's
amaiement, the first night, he heart
3 the cry of a baby.
Looking otu at a balcony one night
e Smart sees the white figure of a
i wouuii silhouetted. He immediately
j begins a hunt for Schmick, the care
er taker, to solve the mystery of who
4 tho woman may be. With the
Schmicks he endeavors to break down
a heavily barred door into that sec
8 tion o fthe castle, but fails. Smart
3 learns that souvenir hunters from
Now York aro demanding to buy the
castle heirlooms. 8mart'l visitors
e demand buy the curiosities of the
$ castle a"Vugh be assures them time
and time :gv!i they are not on salo.
They thiat io is holding out for a
9 higher pri, j. bo would be buyers
aro insulting, and are roughly eject-
3 ed from the castle. The story con-tinuea.
Mollis IS MOST DISTRESSING,
; I most . distressing, Mr. Mr
ahem! I've never been so out
raged in my life. I but, wait!" He
naa eaught tho snap in my atavistic
eye. I am not setting trouble
U' :n . . . , . . . .
t,o w,u gu, ir. li i i tninK my
wiie nas quite recovered. Are are you
au rignt, my dear!"
I stood aside and let them file past
me. mrH. Kiley-Werkheimer moved
very nimbly for one who had just been
revived Dy smelling-salts. As her hus
band went by, he half halted in front
of me. A curious glitter leaped into his
nsny eyes.
I d give a thousand dollars to be
tree to do what you did to that in
sufferable puppy, Mr. Mr. ahem. A
cool thousand, damn him!"
I had my coffee upstairs, far removed
from the onions. A racking headache
set in. Never again will I go without
iy coffeo so long. It always gives me
headache.
CIIAPTEB nr.
I Converse With a Mystery.
LATE in the afternoon, I opened my
door, hoping tlyit the banging of
hammers and the buzz of industry
Would have ceased, but alas! the noise
was even more deafening than before
I was still in a state of nerves over
me events oi the moriing. There had
been a most distressing lack of poise
on my part, and I couldn't help feeling
after it was all over that my sense of
humor had received a shock from which
it was i.ot likely to recover in a long
time. There was but little consolation
in the reflection that my irritating
visitors Reserved something in the
shape of a rebuff; I could rot separate
something myself from the conviction
that integrity as a gentleman had suf
fered in a mistaken conflict with
humor. My headache, I think, was due
in a large ir:asure to tho sickening fear
that I had made a fool of myself, not
withstanding my. efforts to make fools
of them. My day was spoilt. My plans
were upset and awry.
Espying Britton in the clonmw
dor, I shouted to him, and he came at
once.
ururon, - said I, as he closed the
door, "do yon think they will carry out
their threat to have the law on met
Mr. Bocksworth was vory angry and
rl "" i is power, as you know.
'I think you are quite safe, sir,"
aid he. "I've been waiting outside
mnce two O'clock to tell ytu some
thing, sir, but hated to disturb you
j a
"Thank you, Britton, my head was
ching dreadfully."
"Yes, sir. Quite so. Shortly before
two, sir, one of the porters from the
aWtel came ever u recover a gold purse
Mrs. Biley-Werkheimer had dropped in
the excitement, and he informed Mr.
Ppopendyke that the wholo party was
leaving at four for Dresden. I asked
particular about the young man. sir,
and he said they had the doctor in to
treat his stomach, sir, immediately
after they got back to the hotel."
"His stomach t But I distinctly
struck him on the verso."
1 know, sir; but it seems that he
swallowed his cigarette."
io mj Bnamc, i joined Kritton in a
roar of laughter. Afterwards I recall
ed, with something of a shock, that it
was the first time I had ever heard my
valet laugh aloud. lie appeared to be
in some distress over it himself, for he
tried to turn it off into a violent fit of
coughing. He is such a faithful, exem
plary servant that I made haste to
pound him on the back, fearing the
worst. I eould not get on at all with
out Britton. He promptly recovered.
"I beg pardon, sir," said he. "Will
you -vtave your shave and tub now,
sir?"
Later on, somewhat refreshed and
relieved, I made my way to the little
balcony, first having issued numerous
orders and directions to the still stupe
fied Schmicks, chief among which was
an inflexible command to keep the
gates locked against all comers. The
sun was shining brightly over the
western hills, and the sky was clear
and blue. The hour was five I found
on consulting my watch. Naturally mv
first impulse was to glance up at the
still loftier balcony in the east wing.
it was empty. There was nothing in
tne grim, formidable prospect to war
rant the impression that any one dwelt
behind those dismantled windows, and
experienced the vague recline that
perhaps it had been a dream after all.
Par below at the foot of the shaeirv
cnri ran tne nistonc iionau, serene and
muddy, all rhythmic testimonials to the
contrary. With something qt a shud
der I computed the distance from my
eerie perch to the rocks at the bottom
of the cliff. Five hundred feet, at
least; an impregnable wall of nature
surmounted by a now rank and obsolete
obstruction built by the hand of man;
tortrcss that defied the legions of
old but today would afford no more
than brief and even desultory target
pratice for a smart battery. To scale
the cliff, however, would be an impos
sibility for the most resourceful general
n the world. All about me were tur
rets and minarets, defeated by the an
cient and implacable foe Time. Shat
tered crests of towers hung above me,
grey and -orbidding, yet without men
ace save in their senile prerogative to
collapse, without warning. Tiny win-1
dows marked tho face of my still sturdy
walls, like so many pits left by small
pox, and from these in the good old
feudal days a hundred marksmen had
thrust their thunderuis blunderbusses
to clear the river of vain glorious foes.
rom the scalloped bastions cross-bow
men of even darker ages had shot their
random bolts; while in the niches of
lower walls futile pikemen waited for
the impossible to happen the scaling
ot the cliff!
Friend and foe alike came to the
back door of Schloss Bothhocfen, and
there found welcome or stubborn ob
stacles tha. laughed at time and lock
smiths; monstrous gates that still were
enough to defy a mighty force. There
was my great ctone-paved courtyard,
flanked on all sides by disintegrating
buildings once occupied by serfs and
fighting men; the stables in which
chargers and beasts of burden had slept
aide by side until called by the night 's
work or the day's work, as war or
peace prescribed, ranged close by the
gates that opened upon tho steep, wind
ing roadway that now dismayed all
modern steeds save the conquering ass.
Here too were the remains of a once
noble garden, and here were ' the
granaries and the storehouses.
Far below me were the dungeons,
with dead men's bones on their dripping
floors; and somewhere in the heart of
the peak were secret, nnknown pas
sages, long since closed by tumbling
rocks and earth, as darkly mysterious
as the streets in the buried cities of
Egypt
Across the river and below tne stood
the walled in town that paid tribute to
the good and bad fiothhoefens in those
olden days a red-tiled, gloomy city
that stood as a monument to long-dead
ambitions. A peaceful, quiet town that
had survived its parlous centuries of
lust aud greed, and would go on living
to tho end of time.
fco here I sat me down, almost at
tho top of my fancy, to wonder if it
were not folly, as well!
Above me soared huge white-bellied
birds, cousins germain to my dreams,
out niasi lnrinitciy more sensible in
that they roamed for a moro sustain
ing nourishment than the so-called food
for thought.
i looKeu oacawara to the tender years
when my valiant young heart kept pace
with a fertile brain in its swiftest
flights, and pinched myself to make
sure that this was not all imagination,
Was. 1 really living in a feudal castle
with romance shadowing m; at everv
stepT Was this I, the dreamer of
twenty years agot Or was I the last of
the Bothhoefens and not John Bellamy
Smart, of Madison Avenue, New York!
the sun shone full upon me as I sat
there in my little balcony, but I liked
tho dry, warm glare of it. To be per
fectly frank, the castle was a bit damp.
I had had a pain in the back of my
neck for two whole days. The sooner
I got at my novel and finished it up
the better, I reflected. Then I could
go off to the baths somewhere. But
would I ever settle down to workl
Would the plumbers ever get off the
placet (They were the ones I seemed
to suspect the most.) .
Suddenly, as I sat there ruminating,
I became acutely aware of something
white on the ledge of the topmost win
dow in the eastern tower. Even as I
fixed my gaze upon it, something trans
pired. A cloud of soft, wavy, luxuri
ous brown hair eclipsed the narrow
white strip and hung with spreading
splendor over the casement ledge, plain
ly, indubitably to dry in the sun.
My neighbor had washed her hair!
And it was really a most wonderful
head of hair. I can 't remember ever
having seen anything like it, except in
the advertisements.
For a long time I sat there trying
to pierce the blackness of the room be
yond the window with my straining
eyes, deeply sensitive to a curiosity that
had as its basic force the very natural
anxiety to know what disposition she
had made of the rest of her person in
order to obtain this rather startling
effect.
Of course, 1 concluded, she was lying
on a couch of some description, with her
head in tho windows. That was quite
clear, even to a dreamer. And perhaps
she was reading a novel while the sun
shone. My fancy went to the remotest
ends of probability she might even be
nailing one of mine!
What a glorious, appealing, sensuous
thing a crown of hair but just then
Mr. l'oopendyke came to my window.
"May I interrupt you for a moment,
Mr. Smart t" he inquired, as he squint
ed at me through his ugly bono riuuned
glasses.
"Come hero, Poopendyke," I com
manded in low, excited tones. He hesi
tated. "You wou't fall off," I said
sharply.
Although the window is at least nine
feet high, Poopendyke stooped as he
came through. He always does it, no
matter how tall the door. It is a life- ,
long habit with him. Have I mentioned
that my worthy secretary is six feet
four, and as thin as a reedt I remem
ber speaking of his knees. He is also
a bachelor.
It is a dreadful distance down
there," he murmured, flattening him
self against the wall and closing his
eyes.
A pair of slim white hands at that
instant indolently readjusted the thick
mass of hair and quite as casually dis
appeared. I failed to hear Mr. Poopen-
dyko's remark.
I think, sir," he proceeded, "it
would be a very good idea to get some
of our correspondence off our hands. A
great deal of it has accumulated in the
past few weeks. I wish to say that I
am quite ready to attend to it whenever"
Time enough for letters," said T,
still staring. (To Be Continued.)
Going East or Coming West we can
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