“I'm most grateful, sir,” protested Pearson, “but I oughtn't to take it. Being an American gentleman and not accustomed to English money, you don't realize that--” “I'm not accustomed to any kind of money,” said his master. “I'm scared to be left alone in the room with it. That's what's the matter. If I don't give some away, I shall never know I've got it. Cheer up, Pearson. You take that and buy the ring, and when you start furnishing, I'll see you don't get left.” “I don't know what to say, sir,” Pearson faltered emotionally. “I don't, indeed.” “Don't say a darned thing,” replied Mr. Temple Barholm. And just here his face changed as Mr. Palford had seen it change before, and as Pearson often saw it change later. His New York jocular irreverence dropped from him, and he looked mature and oddly serious. “I've tried to sort of put you wise to the way I've lived and the things I HAVEN'T had ever since I was born,” he said, “but I guess you don't really know a thing about it. I've got more money coming in every year than a thousand of me would ever expect to see in their lives, according to my calculation. And I don't know how to do any of the things a fellow who is what you call `a gentleman' would know how to do. I mean in the way of spending it. Now, I've got to get some fun out of it. I should be a mutt if I didn't, so I'm going to spend it my own way. I may make about seventy-five different kinds of a fool of myself, but I guess I sha'n't do any particular harm.” “You'll do good, sir,--to every one.” “Shall I?”--said Tembarom, speculatively. “Well, I'm not exactly setting out with that in my mind. I'm no Young Men's Christian Association, but I'm not in for doing harm, anyway. You take your five-pound note--come to think of it, Palford said it came to about twenty-five dollars, real money. Hully gee! I never thought I'd have twenty-five dollars to GIVE AWAY! It makes me feel like I was Morgan.” “Thank you, sir; thank you,” said Pearson, putting the note into his pocket with rapt gratitude in his neat face. “You--you do not wish me to remain--to do anything for you?” “Not a thing. But just go and find out if Mr. Strangeways is asleep. If he isn't and seems restless, I'll come and have a talk with him.” “Yes, sir,” said Pearson, and went at once. CHAPTER XIII In the course of two days Mr. Palford, having given his client the benefit of his own exact professional knowledge of the estate of Temple Barholm and its workings and privileges as far as he found them transferable and likely to be understood, returned to London, breathing perhaps something like a sigh of relief when the train steamed out of the little station. Whatsoever happened in days to come, Palford & Grimby had done their most trying and awkward duty by the latest Temple Barholm. Bradford, who was the steward of the estate, would now take him over, and could be trusted to furnish practical information of any ordinary order.