ablackguard--a man who deserves the death that will, I hope, overtakeyou--death in the gutter."
And he turned upon his heel, leaving the accused man standing staring athim open-mouthed, utterly unable to offer a single word in self-defence.
This secret charity was Sam Statham's only recreation. By it he mademany friends whom he had taken out of the slums--friends who wereperhaps more devoted and true to him than those to whom he had givenfinancial "tips," and who had made many thousands thereby. In many amodest home was Mr Jones a welcome guest whenever he called to see how"his friends" were progressing, and many a time had he drunk a humbleglass of bitter "sent out" for by his thankful and devoted host who wasall unconscious of who his guest really was. The world would havelaughed at the idea of a working man standing Samuel Statham a glass ofale.
One case was old Sam's particular pride. About eighteen months before,in the park one day, he came across a despairing but well-educated,middle-aged man, who at first was not at all communicative, but whosebearing and manner was that of refinement and culture. Three times theymet, and it was very evident that the sad-faced man was starving.
At last Sam offered to "stand him" a meal, and over it the man told apathetic story, how that he was a fully-qualified medical man inpractice in York, but owing to his unfortunate habit of drinking he hadlost everything, sold his practice, and had been compelled to leave thecity. The proceeds of his practice had soon gone in drink, and now,with all the bitter remorse upon him, he and his wife and two smallchildren were faced with starvation. Friends and relations would notassist him because of his intemperance. There was only one way out ofit all, he declared--suicide.
Sam had taken him in hand. He had seen the wife and children, and thenexplained, as usual, that he was Mr Jones. Small sums he first gavethem, and finding that his charity was never abused, and that the doctorwithstood the temptation to drink, he had gone to an agency, the addressof which he had found in the _Lancet_, and bought a comfortable littlepractice with a furnished house in West Norwood, where the doctor andhis family were now installed and doing well.
In West Norwood to-day that doctor is the most popular and the mostsought after. His practice is ever increasing, and already he hasnearly repaid the whole of the sum which Mr Jones lent him, and hasbeen compelled to take an assistant.
The doctor is still in ignorance, however, for he has never identifiedMr Jones with Statham the millionaire. But was it surprising that athis house no guest was more welcome than the man who had rescued himfrom ruin and from death?
Truly money, if properly applied, can do much to alleviate thesufferings of the world, and as it is the "root of all evil," so it isalso the root of all good.
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.
TELLS OF THE THREE.
"Well?"
"Weel?" asked Duncan Macgregor, who was seated in an easy attitude inSam Statham's library. At the table sat the millionaire himself, whilenear by, in the enjoyment of a cigar, sat old Levi. The latter wasstill in his garb of service, but his attitude was certainly more likethat of his master's intimate friend than that of butler.
It was from his thin lips that the query had escaped in response to afact which the Scot had emphasised with his hairy fist.
"Well," exclaimed Statham after a pause, "and what do you suppose shouldbe done, Mr--"
"Macgregor--still Duncan Macgregor," exclaimed the bearded man,concluding the millionaire's sentence. "That's the verra thing thatpuzzles me, mon. P'raps we'd best wait a wee bittie an' see."
Levi dissented. He knew that whatever his position in that strangehousehold, his master always listened to him and took his advice--sometimes when it involved the risk of many thousands. He was a kind oforacle, for generally when Ben came there to consult his brother uponsome important point, the old servant remained in the room to hear thediscussion and to give his dry but candid opinion.
"My own opinion is that we should act at once--without fear. Theslightest hesitation now will be our undoing, depend upon it," he said.
"Ah! Mr Levi," exclaimed the Scot, "I'm a'ways for caution. Hasna'our ain Bobbie said that facts are chiels that winna ding, and downa bedisputed?"
"Yes; but we've not yet quite established the facts yet, you see,"Statham said.
"Why, mon, isn't it as plain as plain can be? What mair d'ye want?"
"A good deal," Levi chimed in in his squeaky voice. "We can't act onthat. It's too shadowy altogether."
"I tell ye it isn't!" cried Duncan, shaking his clenched fist again."Mr Statham is in sair peril, I tell ye he is, an' I've proved it."
"Mr Statham must be allowed to be the best judge of that," Levi said,placing his hands together, and holding his cigar between his teeth.
"Mr Statham knows me weel. He knows I'd nae tell him what I didn't kenma'sel'."
The great financier rose thoughtfully and stood with his back to themantelshelf.
"Look here, Macgregor," he said, fixing his eyes upon the man seatedbefore him. "When you called at the office and was fool enough not togive your proper name you had a difficulty in getting an interview withme. I hadn't any idea till I received your note that--well, that youwere in the land of the living. When we met before it was underdifferent circumstances--very different, weren't they?" and themillionaire smiled. "Shall I recall to your memory one scene--longago--a scene that lives in my memory this moment as though the eventshappened but yesterday. We were both younger, and more active then--youand I--and--"
"Nae, Mr Statham. We're better not bearin' it," he protested, holdingup his hands. "I jalouse what you're again' to say."
"To you, my friend, I owe much," the old man went on. "The place was ina sun-baked South American city, the time was sunset, fierce andblood-red like the deeds of that never-to-be-forgotten day. There waswar--a revolution was in progress, and the Government forces had beenthat day driven back into the capital followed by us. I remember you,with that great bullet furrow down your cheek and the blood streamingfrom it as you fought at my side. I see you bear the scar even now."Then, with a quick movement he pulled up his sleeve and showed on hisright forearm a great cicatrice, asking: "Do you remember how I receivedthis?"
"Nae, nae, Mr Statham, enough!" cried the Scot. "Our days of war arelong since past. They'll come again nae mair."
"You remember how we followed the troops of Hernandez into the capital,shooting and killing as we drove them before us, and how you and I and afew more of the younger bloods made a dash for the Palace to secure thePresident himself. I recollect the wild excitement of those moments. Iwas tearing along the street shouting and urging on my men, when of asudden I found myself surrounded by a dozen soldiers of Hernandez. Ifought for life, though well knowing I was lost. As a prisoner I shouldbe tortured, for they had long sworn to serve me as they had served ourfriends Jose and Manuel. This recollection flashed across me, and withmy back to the wall I fired my pistol full in a man's face and blew itout of all recognition. A man had raised his rifle and covered me, butnext moment I gave him an upward cut with my sword.
"At the same instant I felt a sharp twinge upon my right arm, and mysword dropped from my grasp. I was maimed, and stood there at theirmercy. A dark-faced, beetle-browed fellow raised his sabre with afierce Spanish oath to cut me down, but in the blood-red sunlightanother blade flashed high, and the man sank dying in the dust.
"It was you, Macgregor--you alone had come to my aid, and four of myattackers fell beneath your blows in that hand-to-hand struggle as you,with your own body placed before mine, fought on, keeping them back andyet without assistance. Shall I ever forget those moments, or how nearboth of us were to death? I was already half-fainting, but you shoutedto me to keep courage, and in the end we were discovered by our men andsaved. If ever a deed deserved the Victoria Cross, yours did. You,Macgregor--as you now call yourself--saved my life."
"An' I'm here, Mr Statham, to save it again, if ye'll only let me," wasthe Scot's dry reply.
"Years ha
ve gone since that day," the millionaire went on, with adistinct catch in his voice. "I lost sight of you soon afterwards, andheard once that you were in Caracas. Then there was no further news ofyou. We drifted apart--our lives lay in opposite directions. Yet toyou--and to you alone--I owe my present life, for were it not for youraid at that moment I should have been put to the torture in thatterrible castle where Hernandez did his prisoners to death, and my bodygiven to the rats like others of our friends."
"Eh, mon, ye really make me blush," laughed Macgregor. "So please don'ttalk of it. That's