The Silver Bullet

by Fergus Hume

"Good-bye," returned the little man a trifle sulkily, "there is far too much of the good Samaritan about you Jim."

"You never think of that in relation to yourself," said Herrick with a laugh. "I hope to be back this evening. Make yourself comfortable."

As he ran down to rejoin Marsh, he could not help contrasting the two natures of Stephen and Robin. It is true that he had not had much experience of Marsh; but from what he had seen of him, he judged that he was of a grateful, kindly disposition. Joyce on the other hand, although he looked upon Jim as his best friend, was selfish to the core. Herrick from long association, and because he had plucked him back on one occasion from the grave, was attached to him. But he oftentimes acknowledged that were not Robin an interesting "case" from a medical point of view, as he undoubtedly was, he could not stand much of him. Still he had been so long the little man's friend, that he could not tear himself away from old associations. Nevertheless Robin's yoke was beginning to gall, and Herrick was glad to get a day away from his society. Friendship is a tender plant, and nothing kills it sooner than selfishness. But Robin in his peevish self-satisfaction had not the sense to see that.

"Do you mind going by the bus?" asked Marsh with a flush. "I am not rich enough to afford a cart of any sort."

"I am quite used to public conveyances," said Herrick gaily, "and as to your being poor, the dark days are over now."

"I suppose so," replied Marsh thankfully, "at least my uncle always told me that I was to be his heir, although we quarrelled so much. I have to take the name of Carr, and fulfil certain duties. I do not know what they are, but I shall do them if only to get the money. I do so want to be rich. Ah here is the bus."

"What about the will?" asked Herrick as they climbed up to the roof of the clumsy conveyance, "pardon me, perhaps I should not ask you."

"I do not mind in the least," said Stephen, "indeed I am glad to find that you take an interest in me. I have had a lonely life. The Biffs are my only friends. By the way who told you about the Biffs?"

Herrick described his meeting with Pentland Corn, and the conversation that had ensued. "He was remarkably confidential," said Herrick.

"That is strange," said Marsh thoughtfully. "He usually keeps his mouth very much closed. However," he added in a lighter tone, "we can talk of him again. At present, we will speak of the will. I have written to my uncle's solicitors informing them of his terrible death. I expect to hear from them to-morrow or the next day--perhaps later."