This historic book may have numerous typos, missing text or index. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. 1919. Not illustrated. Excerpt: ... a heap on the corner of the bureau. Then he flung himself into the bed and blew out the candle. Ghosts? Bah! Nothing could trouble him now, and nothing could harm him in the future, for the means was there, within reach of his hand, to carry him far beyond the reach of memories. With a last waking effort he stretched his arms down and pulled the valise half out from under the bed, where his hand could rest upon it. It was good to feel that bulge beneath the leather! Money was real, all else was but the chimera of one's thought. There was no yesterday, only to-morrow .... His reflections dulled, dissolved in chaos, and he slept. Below in the library George had replenished the candles and returned to his task. He was tired, too, and this return to the old house had depressed him, but he was glad to have relieved Norman of the packing, glad the poor old fellow was going to get one night's tranquil rest. The fishing gear took the longest to sort and stow away, but when that was finished he turned to the boots and clothing with a relieved mind. A half hour more and he would be through. The pistol and cartridges he laid gingerly upon the table. They must go in last, and Norman should carry that bag himself. George wished that he would not take it, for in his nervous state he might peg away at some other fishermen by mistake, and there would be the devil to pay! No thought of thwarting his old friend crossed his mind, however; if Norman wanted twenty pistols with him he should have them, if only he returned from this expedition more like his old self! His task was completed at length, and with a sigh of satisfaction George started to close the last bag when a sudden thought struck him. He had packed everything but headgear. Norman must have some old caps lying around s...