deposited with a European banking house at interest, to be drawn against in his foreign purchases of material; yet he never drew against this deposit.  Self-confident as he was, glutted with success as he was, he had in his heart a premonition that some time he might want that money just where it was placed.  So there it lay, accumulating interest.  It was an anchor to windward, that would hold him if ever his bark should drift into shallow or dangerous waters.

The grand trouble was, that he did not own a single patent by which he was thriving in both branches of his manufactures.  He had calculated upon worrying the inventor into a sale, and had brought his designs very nearly to realization, when he found, to his surprise and discomfiture, that he had driven him into a mad-house.  Rich as he was, therefore, there was something very unsubstantial in his wealth, even to his own apprehension.  Sometimes it all seemed like a bubble, which a sudden breath would wreck.  Out of momentary despondencies, originating in visions like these, he always rose with determinations that nothing should come between him and his possessions and prosperities which his hand, by fair means or foul, could crush.

Mr. Balfour, a lawyer of faultless character and undoubted courage, held his secret.  He could not bend him or buy him.  He was the one man in all the world whom he was afraid of.  He was the one man in New York who knew whether Benedict was alive or not.  He had Benedict’s heir in his house, and he knew that by him the law would lay its hand on him and his possessions.  He only wondered that the action was delayed.  Why was it delayed?  Was he, Mr. Belcher, ready for it?  He knew he was not, and he saw but one way by which he could become so.  Over this he hesitated, hoping that some event would occur which would render his projected crime unnecessary.

Evening after evening, when every member of his family was in bed, he shut himself in his room, looked behind every article of furniture to make himself sure that he was alone, and then drew from its drawer the long unexecuted contract with Mr. Benedict, with the accompanying autograph letters, forwarded to him by Sam Yates.  Whole quires of paper he traced with the names of “Nicholas Johnson” and “James Ramsey.”  After he had mastered the peculiarities of their signs manual, he took up that of Mr. Benedict.  Then he wrote the three names in the relations in which he wished them to appear on the document.  Then he not only burned all the paper he had used, in the grate, but pulverized its ashes.

Not being able to ascertain whether Benedict were alive or dead, it would be necessary to produce a document which would answer his purpose in either case.  Of course, it would be requisite that its date should anticipate the inventor’s insanity.  He would make one more effort to ascertain a fact that had so direct a relation to his future security.