- sand and one schemes concocted to get the better of
him.
His life was a continual game of chance, and in this game for many years he found his chief enjoyment in existence. It is not recorded that in the earlier years of his career Mr. Gould ever sought any physical relaxation in the way of sport or pastime. His whole mind, heart and soul lay between Wall street and his uptown home. Finally, however, money-*making became an old story. Time and again he had milked Wall street dry, and his fortune had rolled up into the tens of millions. Then, observing an occasional smile on the faces of other millionaires, and hearing the laughter of light hearts all about him, he began to wonder if there were not other pleasures in the world outside of cent per cent, and the dull, eternal rows of figures that stood for stocks and bonds.
So one day he turned his back on the dingy office that represented his paradise and took a New York Central train for Irvington. Here he met Mr. Merritt, and was driven to the residence of the latter, a mile or so north of the old river town and close to the shore. Mr. Gould was very quiet and very reserved, but his keen eye took in all the possibilities of the place at a glance. When he returned to New York on the evening train he had closed a bargain with Mr. Merritt, by which the estate became his for a consideration of a quarter of a million of dollars.
A small army of builders and decorators and
