“Well done!” says Aleck in admiration, for his eyes can see that the other is eager to get at the message. Presently Craig misses him. The library is at the back of the house. He has been in it before during the evening. From the open windows one can look out upon the lake, and the scene in the misty moonlight is one to conjure up all manner of romance. Moonlight, the gentle undulations of water, and love seem to go hand in hand. To this quarter Aleck bends his steps, wondering if the operator went thither. The door of the library is open, and, looking in, he sees Samson Cereal. The operator is alone. He stands under the gas jet, and has with trembling hands torn the end from the little buff envelope. He draws out the inclosure, and then, as if unable to look at it, drops his hand. This weakness is but momentary. With a harsh laugh he finally raises his hand, and his eyes take in the contents of the message. Aleck sees him stagger back and clap a hand across his forehead, while to his ears float the words--how sadly they sound, with that soft music swelling from the retreat near by: “Lost--everything lost! After all these years of building up, to be ruined now. Good God! I shall go mad--mad!” When a man of his caliber gives way under a severe strain, there is a terrible danger of his mind going. Aleck Craig once studied for a doctor, and realizes the desperate nature of the situation. The operator has apparently forgotten all about the fact that his mansion is filled with guests. Upon his mind weighs the one terrible thought of ruin. It glares at him from the walls in malignant letters--everywhere he sees in letters of fire the awful word that is seared upon his brain. A proud man Samson Cereal has been. Up to this time he has been very conservative, and small-sized panics have passed him unharmed. This summer’s dullness in trade has tempted him to make a break in a direction whither he has never before trod. By degrees he has gone in deeper and deeper until everything that he has in the wide world is risked; and this during a time when, owing to the public alarm, one cannot raise a thousand dollars on securities worth twenty times the amount. Instead of diminishing, the old man’s agitation seems to increase. He staggers as he walks, and then suddenly drops into a chair, where his chin falls upon his breast. Such an attitude of dejection Aleck never before looked upon.