gave me one of the suit- cases. It weighed a ton. Just to spite
Edgar, I had a plan to kick it open, so that every one on the
platform might scramble for the contents. But again my infernal New
England conscience restrained me.

Edgar had secured the drawing-room in the parlor-car, and when we
were safely inside and the door bolted my curiosity became stronger
than my pride.

"Edgar," I said, "your ingratitude is contemptible. Your suspicions
are ridiculous; but, under these most unusual conditions, I don't
blame you. But we are quite safe now. The door is fastened," I
pointed out ingratiatingly, it and this train doesn't stop for
another forty minutes. I think this would be an excellent time to
look at the treasure." "I don't!" said Edgar.

I sank back into my chair. With intense enjoyment I imagined the
train in which we were seated hurling itself into another train;
and everybody, including Edgar, or, rather, especially Edgar, being
instantly but painlessly killed. By such an act of an all-wise
Providence I would at once become heir to one million dollars. It
was a beautiful, satisfying dream. Even MY conscience accepted it
with a smug smile. It was so vivid a dream that I sat guiltily
expectant, waiting for the crash to come, for the shrieks and
screams, for the rush of escaping steam and breaking window-panes.

But it was far too good to be true. Without a jar the train carried
us and its precious burden in safety to the Jersey City terminal.
And each, with half a million dollars in his hand, hurried to the
ferry, assailed by porters, news-boys, hackmen. To them we were a