“That is not the point,” interrupted the richest man in the world.
“What is the point, then?” asked Grin-nell, with an air of forgiving Mellen’s impoliteness.
“Do you propose to flood the world with gold?” Mr. Mellen’s voice rang out rather unpleasantly.
“That,” said the young man slowly, “is a very remarkable question, Mr. Mellen.”
“Mr. Grinnell”—Mr. Dawson spoke with a half-jocular voice—“I have told Mr. Mellen of your extraordinary deposits, and he naturally wishes to know if you are ever going to stop.”
“Yes, Mr. Dawson, I am going to stop at once. I shall transfer my account to another bank. Will you be good enough to—”
“No, no, no! You misunderstand me.”
“Mr. Dawson, I have told you several times that if the fact that I was one of your depositors disturbed you, you could rid yourself of your suffering by telling me to seek some other bank. The reason why I selected this one was because it was the richest and, I supposed, the most ably managed in the country. Nothing but the fear of arousing a curiosity I could not gratify made me deposit my gold gradually. If a man deposited fifty or a hundred millions at once, and everybody knew it, he could not live in peace in this country. The sensational newspapers would hound him to death. You know what my views are, and that I hope to do some good to my fellow-men in this world. But I see that I was mistaken in my assumption that I could deposit some of my funds with you. To prevent further—”
“Mr. Grinnell, I beg that you will not close your account with us. Your money is yours to do with as you see fit; but don’t withdraw it because of a misunderstanding. We are very glad indeed to have your account. But really, my dear Mr. Grinnell, you must see how natural it is that we should wish to know, not so much the source of your gold, but the quantity controlled by you.”
“And the source too,” said the richest man in the world, in a tone that showed there should be no argument about a purely family matter. “Where does it come from?”