But you had to meet Welles's wife. How? By means of your sisters. How did I make friends of them? By reforming you and making you my heir. How did I make Mrs. Welles take the same steamer that you did? By having her mother cable for her. How did I do that? Ask Miss Keogh. I admit that much of what we were compelled to do was not gentlemanly; but, after all, our only crime is the crime of having been business men--buying something at four dollars and selling it at five or six dollars. Take my advice, dear boy, and stay on the water-wagon! If you marry Miss Keogh I think you can show this letter to A. Welles and ask him to give you a nice position in the trust company. I am sorry I cannot see you again; but believe me, dear boy, that we are very grateful for your efficient assistance. We would send you a check--only we need it in our business. Tell Jimmy Parkhurst to tell you and Amos F. Kidder all about it. Yours truly, The Plunder Recovery Syndicate, Per Alfred Jerningham. But it was a long time before Frank Wolfe returned to New York--without Miss Keogh, who flatly refused to marry him. Jerningham had disappeared, leaving absolutely no trail. Parkhurst introduced Frank Wolfe to Fiske, but all that came of it was that Fiske added a few fresh notes to his collection. IV--CHEAP AT A MILLION I TOM MERRIWETHER, only son and heir of E. H. Merriwether, finished the grape-fruit and took up the last of that morning's mail. He had acquired the feminine habit of reading letters at the table from his father, who had the wasteful American vice of time-saving. He read the card, frowned, glanced at his father, and seemed to be on the point of speaking; but he changed his mind, laughed, and tore the card into bits. The day was Monday, and this was what the card said: _If Mr. Thomas Thorne Merriwether will go to 777 Fifth Avenue any forenoon this week and answer just one little question about his past life he will hear something to his advantage._ Idle men who live in New York are always busy. Tom had many things to think about; but all of them were about the present or the future. His past caused him neither uneasiness nor remorse. On the following Monday young Mr. Merriwether received, among other invitations, this: _If Tom Merriwether will call at 777 Fifth Avenue any forenoon this week and answer one question he will do that which is both kindly--and wise!_ It was in the same handwriting, on the same kind of card, and in the same kind of ink as the first. Now Tom had the Merriwether imagination. His father exercised it in building railroads into waterless deserts whereon he clearly saw a myriad men labor, love, and multiply, thereby insuring freight and passengers to the same railroads. The son had to invent his romances in New York.