They were both outrageously extravagant--not in a gross, flaunting way, desiring the pained humiliation of those less fortunate than themselves, but in a way that showed an almost childish ignorance of the value of money. John Lawton, Sr., had been a shrewd, far-sighted, honorable man, a hard worker, who held fast to what he earned until it could earn too. Strong and self-denying, he yet fathered a son who seemed to have been born for the express purpose of being fleeced. Honest, honorable, temperate, moral, without a single vice, possessing most of the virtues, he was nevertheless that piteous creature--the well-intentioned but unsuccessful man. After the plantations had gently slipped away from him he did not attempt to retrench. He loved his wife; he had not the heart to deny her anything; also he remembered the hysterical outburst and a tiny, tiny little grave, and he--well, he dared not suggest even a slight change in their style of living, but he did decide that something must be found to take the place of the money-yielding coffee plantations. Hence it followed that for some years there were few salted mines, whether of gold or silver; few gushing oil-wells, located miles outside of the oil belt; few Eden-like land-booms in Southern swamps, that had not found in John Lawton an eager purchaser of shares. Some fine corner lots in the business centre of a Western city--built entirely on paper--were his last, large, losing investment. After that he dribbled away the few dollars left to him in helping to secure patents for such useless inventions as an ink-well with automatic cover that was meant to keep the ink from evaporating, but failed to do it. A dish-washing machine looked like a winner, until he found it was apt suddenly to go wrong and crush more dishes in a moment than the most impetuous Bridget would destroy in a week. And a cow-milker had lately absorbed the money that should have gone for walking boots. Each time he was deceived he was as greatly surprised as he had been on the first occasion; then, sadly gathering up his worthless shares, he tied them neatly together with pink tape, labelled them, laid them aside--and was ready to be taken in again. In all these foolish investments he was actuated solely by love for his family. There was no taint of selfishness underlying his desire to regain a lost fortune. He suffered twice to their once, since he felt every one of their privations in addition to his own. In his slow way he had come to understand that his weakness had brought about the family's downfall. He had not been strong enough to hold what he had once possessed, and even when he knew they were rushing to destruction, he had not been strong enough to put the brakes down hard. He said little--almost nothing; but there were times when his wife thought him sleeping when he sat with closed eyes thanking God for that tiny grave which held his only son, for had he lived a weakling like himself he