do to earn his money? Don't you call that
sweating? No, sir! I've danced like a damned hand-organ monkey for the
pennies he left me, and I had to grin and touch my hat and make believe
I liked it. Now I'm going to spend every cent for my own personal
pleasure."

Once more Frederik started to go.

"Will rich men never learn wisdom?" soliloquised Dr. McPherson as he
began to prepare some medicine for Willem.

"No, they won't," Frederik flung back over his shoulder. "But in every
fourth generation there comes along a _wise_ fellow--a spender. Well,
I'm the spender here."

He pulled out another cigarette, lighted it, and put on his hat.

"Shame on you!" cried the doctor indignantly. "Your breed ought to be
exterminated!"

"Oh, no," Frederik declared. "We're as necessary as you are. We're the
real wealth distributors. I wish you good-night, Doctor."

And he was gone.

Disgust was still written all over the doctor's face as he measured the
medicine carefully and emptied it into a glass of water. He picked up
the candelabrum in his other hand, and was just starting toward the
stairs and Willem's room when Kathrien came in.

"Kathrien!" he cried in a ringing voice. "Burn up your wedding dress!
We've made no mistake. I can tell you that!"

A moment more and he climbed the stairs and had disappeared into
Willem's room, leaving Kathrien motionless, her face lighted with happy
serenity. Then she went softly to Oom Peter's worn old desk chair, and,
standing behind it, put her arms around its sides lovingly, almost
protectingly--quite as if its former owner were sitting there and could
feel her gentle caress.

"Oom Peter," she whispered tenderly, and her dreamy eyes grew dreamier,
"Oom Peter--I know I am doing what you would have me do."

CHAPTER XXI

"ONLY ONE THING REALLY COUNTS"

And Peter Grimm, standing in the shadows, nodded happy assent to her
cry. The Dead Man's ageless face was wondrous bright. It shone with a
joy that made the rugged features beautiful.

His work was done. His long journey from the Unknown had not failed. The
one deed of his mortal life that could have wrought ill was undone. He
had atoned for a single fault and had seen the ill effects of that fault
brought to nothing. He could go back with a calm mind. All was well in
his earthly home.

But he was not yet wholly content. One task remained. A light task, and,
to guess from his radiant face, a welcome one. And even now he was