[Illustration: Helen Mason Grose
“I WAS THINKING—OF MR. STANLEY G. FULTON”]
To
My Friend
Eva Baker
“I Was Thinking—of Mr. Stanley G. Fulton” Frontispiece
“I Can’t Help It, Aunt Maggie. I’ve Just Got to Be Away!”
“Jim, You’ll Have to Come!”
“And Look Into Those Blessed Children’s Faces”
From drawings by Mrs. Howard B. Grose, Jr.
There was a thoughtful frown on the face of the man who was thepossessor of twenty million dollars. He was a tall, spare man, with afringe of reddish-brown hair encircling a bald spot. His blue eyes,fixed just now in a steady gaze upon a row of ponderous law booksacross the room, were friendly and benevolent in direct contradictionto the bulldog, never-let-go fighting qualities of the square jaw belowthe firm, rather thin lips.
The lawyer, a youthfully alert man of sixty years, trimly gray as togarb, hair, and mustache, sat idly watching him, yet with eyes thatlooked so intently that they seemed to listen.
For fully five minutes the two men had been pulling at their cigars insilence when the millionaire spoke.
“Ned, what am I going to do with my money?”
Into the lawyer’s listening eyes flashed, for a m