'Till the court has put me in that position officially,' he said, 'and, of course, till you are fit again; for then I am well aware that you will kick over the traces, and put up with no interference. Now, David, hand over that money to me. I'll give you a formal receipt for it, and when you need money you can have it, and without a question. For the moment I'll take care of it. Golden sovereigns have a way of burning holes in the pockets of young people.'
When at length the case in which our hero was so interested came before the courts, he was perfectly restored to health; and his straightforward evidence, the narrative of how he had set out from home to make his own way in the world, and his adventures en route won for him the good-will of hosts of people. The whole case read like a romance, and proved wonderfully attractive, while Mr. Ebenezer, who was compelled to give evidence, as was also his wife, provided the villains to this all-absorbing drama. Then came the intimation that David had decided to go to China, there to make inquiries and search for his father's will.
'As a sensible man I suppose I ought to throw cold water on that scheme,' declared the judge, 'but, honestly, it has my sympathy. I like the pluck of the claimant.'
It appeared that others did also. For while Mr. and Mrs. Ebenezer Clayhill were thoroughly exposed, and held up to public execration, David became more of a hero, and the following day received a most important letter.
'Dear Sir'—it ran—'Having read the facts of your appeal to the courts, and being, moreover, an old friend of your father's, I have the pleasure to offer you a post on the staff I am collecting to take to China. We go to investigate old Mongolian Cities, the ruins of which have been long since located. I understand that your father was also interested in this work. We sail in rather less than a month, and should you accept this proposal, your passage will be paid, as also the return, while the question of salary can be arranged in the immediate future. Kindly write by return.'
David telegraphed. 'Coming. Delighted,' he sent, laconically, though he was not given as a rule to such abruptness, while the following morning found him at the address which headed the letter he had received. A short, stout, clean-shaven man rose from a seat as he was announced and advanced towards him with outstretched hand.
'David Harbor?' he asked, with a welcoming smile.
'Yes, sir. Come on the receipt of a letter from Professor Padmore. Is—er—are you—?'
The little gentleman laughed outright now, beaming on our hero, while his fleshy chin shook visibly. 'Am I the Professor?' he shouted, putting a hand on David's shoulder. 'You don't think I look like one, now do you? Admit to that. As a Professor I should be as bald as a coot, wear enormous goggles, stutter a trifle, and be somewhat deaf. Eh! isn't that it?'
David couldn't help laughing; the little man's good temper was strangely infectious. Nor did he attempt to deny what had been said; it was true enough. Professors were often enough the class of individual painted by this gentleman. 'You're so different, sir,' he blurted out. 'You're——'