“Pardon me—one moment—to finish clearing the ground. I don’t know the precise manner in which you came into possession of Herbert Krutzmacht’s money any more than I know exactly how he got it away from those who wanted it. I presume the methods were not essentially unlike. It never interests me, these details of acquisition,—to know just how our plutocratic masters have raked together their pelf. But the method of distribution does interest me tremendously. The rich usually show such little capacity for imagination or daring in the disposal of their wealth! However, that is another theme. . . . Now this lady, whose slender talent as an actress I have had the honor of supporting, thinks she has some cogent claim to the unearned increment of the deceased Dutchman. Her idea is probably fantastic—most of our ideas about ‘rights’ are—but it is a fixed idea with her!” He leaned forward and waved his cigar rhythmically to drive home his words. “Unless her idea is adequately gratified, I am afraid she will be unhappy and make you considerable trouble in the course of her effort to satisfy her quite unreasonable desire. _Voilà tout_, as the French say. Or if you prefer English, Better pay and forget, rather than save a few dollars and regret, my friend.” “You are a good anarchist,” Farson observed. “Thank you for the explanation. I know that I am a practical man. If our rich, our very rich citizens, would only recognize more frankly the truth I have been stating, they would be happier and so would we others. But they are very timid and conservative; they rarely get beyond libraries, museums, and hospitals. All dull and comparatively useless affairs!” The fight-trust man sank back into his chair and smoked with half-closed eyes. “Your talk is interesting, Hollinger, as always,” Brainard remarked, “but unfortunately this time I can’t follow your advice.” “And why not?” “Because it happens not to be my own money that Miss Walters desires.” Hollinger waved one hand deprecatingly and murmured: “A mere matter of words that.” “No, I mean it! As I have been explaining to Miss Walters, I am really a poor man—” “Poverty is a relative matter—science has demonstrated that.” “Everything of Krutzmacht’s I hold as trustee.” “Sounds like Carnegie, or was it the Emperor William? . . . Pardon me, that is another formula. We are all trustees, of course.” Brainard paused and then resumed in a different tone: “I have been over this matter with Miss Walters and explained my position. I think she understands it quite well. If she can produce proof that she was legally married to the late Herbert Krutzmacht—” “You would not be as crude as that!” Hollinger exclaimed, opening his eyes. “You know as well as the next man how purely accidental marriage is—the ceremony I mean. The law fastens on that of course—it has to have some nail to cling to—”