“Tell me what you thought of the Snow Palace,” said he. “I’ve an idea that Mrs. Winnie’s got quite a crush on you. You’ll find her dangerous, my boy—she’ll make you pay for your dinners before you get through!” After the train was under way, the Major got himself surrounded with some apollinaris and Scotch, and then settled back to enjoy himself. “Did you see the ‘drunken kid’ at the ferry?” he asked. “(That’s what our abstemious district attorney terms my precious young heir-apparent.) You’ll meet him at the Castle—the Havens are good to him. They know how it feels, I guess; when John was a youngster his piratical uncle had to camp in Jersey for six months or so, to escape the strong arm of the law.” “Don’t you know about it?” continued the Major, sipping at his beverage. “_Sic transit gloria mundi!_ That was when the great Captain Kidd Havens was piling up the millions which his survivors are spending with such charming _insouciance_. He was plundering a railroad, and the original progenitor of the Wallings tried to buy the control away from him, and Havens issued ten or twenty millions of new stock overnight, in the face of a court injunction, and got away with most of his money. It reads like opera bouffe, you know—they had a regular armed camp across the river for about six months—until Captain Kidd went up to Albany with half a million dollars’ worth of greenbacks in a satchel, and induced the legislature to legalize the proceedings. That was just after the war, you know, but I remember it as if it were yesterday. It seems strange to think that anyone shouldn’t know about it.” “I know about Havens in a general way,” said Montague. “Yes,” said the Major. “But I know in a particular way, because I’ve carried some of that railroad’s paper all these years, and it’s never paid any dividends since. It has a tendency to interfere with my appreciation of John’s lavish hospitality.” Montague was reminded of the story of the Roman emperor who pointed out that money had no smell. “Maybe not,” said the Major. “But all the same, if you were superstitious, you might make out an argument from the Havens fortune. Take that poor girl who married the Count.”