the next morning bright and early he called for trixy and her scrap-book, and gallantly insisted upon relieving her of the weight of the book itself; with the precious volume in his hand he felt as if the stock certificates were already in his possession. he hurried the child to his hotel, heartlessly passing several candy shops and two soda-water places, until some pointed remarks brought him to a proper sense of the courtesies due to very young ladies who walk with gentlemen of mature years.

trixy's tongue, never inactive for many moments at a time, was entirely loosened by the gratifying flavors imparted to it by the admiral's kindness, so its owner soon began to talk of the two subjects which were uppermost in home conversation.

"say," she asked, "mr. jermyn don't have to be killed until there is a war, does he?"

"no indeed, my dear, nor even if there should be a war. what put so dreadful an idea into your head?"

"oh, only that mamma says it would be so dreadful when miss trewman loves him so much. besides, mamma says it would be dreadful hard in another way, 'cause the trewmans ain't rich. they used to be, but their father [pg 206]lost a lot of money in business a few years ago, and papa says he hasn't got it back yet."

the admiral quickly lost his compunctions of conscience about the trick he intended to play, which was to abstract the original sketch from trixy's scrap-book during the clipping and pasting operations at the hotel, and substitute the imitation which he had made on the train. it had seemed an ungentlemanly and under-handed thing to do, much though he informed himself that the result would not injure the child in any way. now, after what trixy had told him about the condition of the trewman finances, it would be a matter of absolute duty. still more, he would fulfil the threat he had made to jermyn, in case jermyn's own sketch could not be recovered. he could not do it all at once, of course; jermyn's pride would never allow it, but he would make the bride a handsome present in government bonds on her wedding day, and he would bequeath the remainder of the fifty thousand to her in his will, and should the fortunes of war or peace take jermyn from earth before him, he would see that the remainder of the money should reach the widow at once. with such virtuous and unselfish resolves, what harm could there be in plundering a small girl's scrap-book?

"papa says," continued trixy, "that there is no sense in worryin' about it, 'cause both of 'em are so fond of each other that they'd marry for love even if they had to starve afterward."

"hem! quite likely. i suspect i would, if i were either of them."

[pg 207]

"is that so? i must tell mamma that, 'cause p'raps it will keep her from worryin'. papa says she worries too much about her friends' affairs."

"er—my dear, i wouldn't say anything about it, if i were you; for maybe your parents might not like to think that you had been repeating any of their conversation."

it took considerable effort on the part of the admiral to prevent any farther disclosures, and the old gentleman was very glad when he reached the hotel, and an examination of the pictorial papers gave the child something new to talk about. the admiral had scissors and paste ready, and allowed trixy to clip at will while he endeavored to rob the scrap-book. he lost no time in turning the pages, but a hasty examination failed to disclose the sketch which represented fifty thousand dollars, so he looked again, with extreme care. toward the end his heart sank, and at the last page he uttered a low groan.

"what's the matter?" asked trixy, looking up from her work.

"i beg a thousand pardons, my dear. i merely gave way, for an instant, to a bad habit into which old gentlemen sometimes fall. how are you getting along? oh, you're finding a capital lot, aren't you? don't you want to stop a moment or two, and show me your book?"

trixy began at once to turn the leaves, and to tell the story of each picture. the admiral listened patiently as long as he could, but soon he said:

[pg 208]

"won't you show me the one that is like the sketch i made on the train the day we returned from washington?"

"certainly." trixy turned the pages rapidly, but suddenly stopped and looked puzzled; then she exclaimed:

"somebody's hooked it, i do believe!"

"oh, don't say that!" said the admiral, in a shaky voice. "look again; perhaps you have pasted some other picture over it."

"no i didn't. i know just where i had it in the book; it was right here, by the picture aunt fee made of some of the sand hills behind the fort, because they were the only two drawin's i had. and now there ain't nothin there!"

the admiral looked carefully at the page. evidently something had been pasted there, and with childish lavishness of mucilage. it could not have dropped out, for bits of paper still adhered to the page. it was plain that some one had carefully removed the sketch.

"trixy," said the admiral, as a suspicion came into his mind, "have you ever shown this book to lieutenant jermyn?"

"no, never. he ain't ever at our house long enough for me to show him anything."

"have you loaned the book to any other little girl, or exchanged pictures with any one?"

"no, indeed! besides, i was keepin' that picture real careful, to remind me of somethin'—mamma told me to. she told me that whenever i looked at that picture i must remember to never again take any writin' from her portfolio and ask other people to finish it for me. i'd [pg 209]just like to know what's happened to that picture; i'm goin' to ask ev'rybody about it as soon as i get back home."

"oh, don't, please," said the admiral hastily, "or you'll make me very unhappy."

"what for?"

"oh, i should dislike to have your father and mother and aunt annoyed about so slight a matter—so far as i am concerned; and you wouldn't have thought of it, you know, if i hadn't spoken of it."

"but they wouldn't be annoyed, and p'raps one of 'em knows where the picture is."

"eh? which of them?" the old gentleman looked keenly over the tops of his glasses as a new thought came to him.

"why, papa, i guess, 'cause he's got a picture a good deal like it on the back of a letter that mamma wrote him, and i saw him lookin' real hard at it the other day, and i asked him what 'twas about, and he said, 'oh, nothin'."

"aha!"

"what did you say?"

"did i say something? i must have been merely clearing my throat."

"what a funny lot of noises you do make this mornin'. well, i guess i'll paste some pictures in the book."

the admiral lit a cigar, an indulgence of which he never was guilty before dinner, except when laboring under severe mental excitement. one thing at least seemed clear; the letter, with jermyn's sketch, had not been destroyed; therefore he, the admiral, could hope to get it, for [pg 210]men knew better than women the value of fifty thousand dollars, and they would forgive other men for asking pointed questions under the circumstances.

but had phil the admiral's own sketch? if so, why had he taken it from the book? merely to tease trixy? scarcely.

suddenly the admiral smote his forehead and muttered to himself:

"how stupid of me. mrs. highwood herself removed that picture. she knew that her daughter had it; she knew the history of it, for i told her all, and she can scarcely have forgotten it. she has a woman's natural delicacy, bless her, about the incident being recalled to my mind, so knowing that trixy was to bring the book to my room she has abstracted the sketch so that i should not see it and be reminded of a mortifying experience. oh, woman, woman! how you do keep alive the human tenderness that man does so much to kill!"

suddenly, however, the admiral sprang to his feet and exclaimed:

"what if, to make assurance doubly sure, she has destroyed that sketch!"