"No. I have so many enemies, and such an infernal succession of bad luck, I never know where a bomb may burst. I haven't an idea what you are driving at."
Mr. Herriott walked twice across the floor.
"Do you recollect Edward Hunt?"
"Yes. A cross between a fox and a blood-hound. He was a cousin of yours. I gave hearty thanks when I heard he was dead."
"Allow me to correct you; he married a cousin of my mother's. Of course you recall his connection with the syndicate that secured congressional grant of lands in the West, which subsequently proved so valuable. You were a member of the Senate committee that reported favorably, and doubtless you recollect all that passed between you and Hunt at that time."
"Good God! When the grave closed over him, I thought that syndicate business was screwed down in his coffin."
"Judge Kent, I would give my right arm if it could be shut in there. Do you recall a time in Washington, the night of Secretary D——'s dinner, from which I carried Eglah to a cotillon? Early in the evening you received an anonymous warning that the personality of 'Ely Twiggs' had been discovered. Accidentally the truth came into my possession. I sent it, that you might prepare any defence you deemed advisable—and I was unwilling you should suspect I knew the facts. The cashier of that western Pentland Bank was Duncan Keith, whom I knew when I was a boy, and when the bank failed, he and the bookkeeper disappeared, after destroying the books; at least the president and teller so stated at the examination held by directors and stockholders. Edward Hunt was a director, and defended Keith. He always contended that the president and teller had conspired to throw the guilt on an innocent man. Leaving his son with the boy's grandmother in Ohio, Keith fled, and was reported somewhere in South America. One night in Geneva, where I went to attend a scientific congress, a blurred sheet was brought to me at the hotel.
"'Your old friend Duncan Keith is dying. I am an innocent victim. Come and take my message to my boy in Ohio.'
"The shoemaker who brought the note piloted me to his shop, where in an attic room I found poor Keith. He was sinking fast, but begged me to do him the only favor this world held. He insisted I should watch over his son, whose grandmother had recently died, and the boy had now no relations but an aunt, a sister of Keith's wife. With his last sobbing breath he swore to me he was innocent. He declared the charge of embezzlement was untrue; that his individual account was short only eight hundred dollars, overdrawn with the knowledge and consent of president and teller, who denied their sanction when the crash came, and charged him with theft and forgeries he had never committed. As security for the money borrowed, he had given a mortgage on a small piece of land, but to avoid mortgage tax it had not been recorded, and could not be found. Fear of prosecution and inability to establish his innocence against the united persecution of bank officials had driven him from the country. Part of the records he preserved and carried away, but he needed an important link, the stubs of a certain check book, and some bank drafts returned from London. His health failed fast, and confined to his room, he had abandoned all hope, when one day he received a package addressed in Edward Hunt's handwriting. It contained not only the stubs, but checks and two receipts establishing beyond doubt the guilt of the president, teller, and two other persons. Poor Keith! On his narrow bed he had a tin box under his elbow, and he laid the key on my knee.
"'Noel, I am honest as you are, and I want you to help my boy clear my name. All the proof is in this box. Will you keep it safe until Duncan is twenty-one, and then give it to him, and explain my enclosed letter of instructions? I tried to write my wishes to you, and that letter also is in the box. If I had not heard you were here, I should have asked our consul to send the box to you. Noel, will you help my son? I don't ask you to prosecute, or take any part; I only beg you to guard these proofs till he is of age. Will you promise me now, in God's sight, to keep these papers safe, and put them into no hand but Duncan's?'