The papers spoke of the enormous size of the fund, which in the sixty-five years had, because of compound interest, grown with geometric leaps. One of the special writers had elicited from Mr. Marshall, former Ambassador to Great Britain, the information that for nearly a decade the surviving members had reached a compromise by which each survivor was to get annually an amount sufficient for a livelihood. This amount was not divulged. This reporter did learn, however, that this was done at the suggestion of one of the wealthiest members of the group. Jimmy suspected that this member was August Schurman. It was explained that the purpose of this was to save from actual want those members who were not as fortunate financially as their comrades. This method of dividing a small part of the fund, without impairing seriously the capital amount, would preserve the self-respect of the poorer members. One of the papers dug up an interesting story about Stanislav Vasiliewski, who was a Confederate soldier and had a brother in the Union army. Stanislav's brother had been captured and held in Jackson, Mississippi, where a rickety old enclosed bridge, the ruins of which had been left standing above the water, was used as a prison. The prisoners were kept in this structure for one month in the coldest season of the year without beds or bedding. At this prison there was no fire or lights. Almost every day two or three were carried out dead; some of them frequently lay at the entrance to the bridge unburied four or five days. Stanislav found his brother a prisoner in this place. It appeared certain to him that his brother would not survive the terrible conditions more than a few days longer. He thereupon changed uniforms with his brother and forced the latter to leave the prison, himself remaining with the probability of facing a firing squad. This paper mentioned Colonel Thomas C. Fletcher, of Blair's Brigade, commander of the Missouri Wide Awake Zouaves, being wounded and captured by the Confederates and with twenty other men, privates and officers, being put into this prison. Reporters, special writers, novelists spread themselves in this Sunday edition. They extracted from the situation all the thrill, glamour and romance they could. And permeating it all was the terrible threat of death that hung over the heads of the Tontine group; the mysterious "14," who for all these years had followed the group relentlessly with his terrible reminders.