desired. He could barely read and write, and could
not spell, but he was daring and astute. His
untaught brain was that of a financier, his blood
burned with the fever of but one desire—the
desire to accumulate. Money expressed to his
nature, not expenditure, but investment in such small
or large properties as could be resold at profit in
the near or far future. The future held fascinations
for him. He bought nothing for his own pleasure
or comfort, nothing which could not be sold or bartered
again. He married a woman who was a trader’s
daughter and shared his passion for gain. She
was of North of England blood, her father having been
a hard-fisted small tradesman in an unimportant town,
who had been daring enough to emigrate when emigration
meant the facing of unknown dangers in a half-savage
land. She had excited Reuben Vanderpoel’s
admiration by taking off her petticoat one bitter winter’s
day to sell it to a squaw in exchange for an ornament
for which she chanced to know another squaw would
pay with a skin of value. The first Mrs. Vanderpoel
was as wonderful as her husband. They were both
wonderful. They were the founders of the fortune
which a century and a half later was the delight—in
fact the piece de resistance—of New York
society reporters, its enormity being restated in
round figures when a blank space must be filled up.
The method of statement lent itself to infinite variety
and was always interesting to a particular class,
some elements of which felt it encouraging to be assured
that so much money could be a personal possession,
some elements feeling the fact an additional argument
to be used against the infamy of monopoly.
The first Reuben Vanderpoel transmitted to his son
his accumulations and his fever for gain. He
had but one child. The second Reuben built upon
the foundations this afforded him, a fortune as much
larger than the first as the rapid growth and increasing
capabilities of the country gave him enlarging opportunities
to acquire. It was no longer necessary to deal
with savages: his powers were called upon to cope
with those of white men who came to a new country
to struggle for livelihood and fortune. Some
were shrewd, some were desperate, some were dishonest.
But shrewdness never outwitted, desperation never
overcame, dishonesty never deceived the second Reuben
Vanderpoel. Each characteristic ended by adapting
itself to his own purposes and qualities, and as a
result of each it was he who in any business transaction
was the gainer. It was the common saying that
the Vanderpoels were possessed of a money-making spell.
Their spell lay in their entire mental and physical
absorption in one idea. Their peculiarity was
not so much that they wished to be rich as that Nature
itself impelled them to collect wealth as the load-stone
draws towards it iron. Having possessed nothing,
they became rich, having become rich they became richer,
having founded their fortunes on small schemes, they
increased them by enormous ones. In time they