When I got back to America--with him--I had two
hundred and fifty dollars in cash, and good clothes. I started a
peanut-stand, and sold papers and books, and became a speculator. I heard
two men talking one day at my stall about a railway that was going to run
through a certain village, and how they intended to buy up the whole
place. I had four hundred and fifty dollars then. I went down to that
village, and bought some lots myself. I made four thousand dollars. Then
I sold more books, and went on speculating."
He paused, blew his cigar-smoke slowly from him a moment; then turned
with a quick look to Miss Raglan, and smiled as at some incongruous
thing. He was wondering what would be the effect of his next words.
"When I was about twenty-two, and had ten thousand dollars, I fell in
love. She was a bright-faced, smart girl. Her mother kept a
boarding-house in New York; not an up-town boarding-house. She waited on
table. I suppose a man can be clever in making money, and knowing how to
handle men, and not know much about women. I thought she was worth a good
deal more to me than the ten thousand dollars. She didn't know I had that
money. A drummer--that's a commercial traveller--came along, who had a
salary of, maybe, a thousand dollars a year. She jilted me. She made a
mistake. That year I made twenty-five thousand dollars. I saw her a
couple of years ago.
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