“No, except that it about ruined everybody who had anything to do with it.”
“Then you have heard nothing of the REsuscitation!” cried Gadgem, all his fingers opened like a fan, his eyebrows arched to the roots of his hair. “You surPRISE me! And you are really ignorant of the PHOEnix-like way in which it has RISen from its ashes? I said RISen, sir, because it is now but a dim speck in the financial sky. Nor the appointment of Mr. John Gorsuch as manager, ably backed by your DIStinguished father—the setting of the bird upon its legs—I'm speaking of the burnt bird, sir, the PHOEnix. I'm quite sure it was a bird—Nor the payment on the first of the ensuing month of some eighty per cent of the amounts due the ORIGinal depositors and another twenty per cent in one year thereafter—The cancelling of the mortgage which your most BEnevolent and HONorable father bought, and the sly trick of Gorsuch—letting Fogbin, who never turned up, become the sham tenant—and the joy—”
“Hold on Mr. Gadgem—I'm not good at figures. Give me that over again and speak slower. Am I to understand that the bank will pay back to my uncle, within a day or so, three-quarters of the money they stole from him?”
“STOLE, sir!” chided Gadgem, his outstretched forefinger wig-wagging a Fie! Fie! gesture of disapproval—“STOLE is not a pretty word—actionable, sir—DANgerously actionable—a question of the watch-house, and, if I might be permitted to say—a bit of COLD lead—Perhaps you will allow me to suggest the word 'maNIPulated,' sir—the money the bank maNIPulated from your confiding and inexperienced uncle—that is safer and it is equally EXpressive. He! He!”
“Well, will he get the money?” cried Harry, his face lighting up, his interest in the outcome outweighing his amusement over Gadgem's antics and expressions.
“He WILL, sir,” rejoined Gadgem decisively.
“And you are so sure of it that you would be willing to advance one-half the amount if the account was turned over to you this minute?” cried Harry eagerly.
“No sir—not one-half—ALL of it—less a TRIfling commission for my services of say one per cent. When you say 'this minute,' sir, I must reply that the brevity of the area of action becomes a trifle ACUTE, yes, ALARMingly acute. I haven't the money myself, sir—that is, not about my person—but I can get it in an hour, sir—in less time, if Mr. Temple is willing. That was my purpose in coming here, sir—that was why Mr. Pawson sent for me, sir; and it is but fair to say that you can thank your DIStinguished father for it all, sir—he has worked night and day to do it. Colonel Rutter has taken over—so I am inFORMED—I'm not sure, but I am inFORMED—taken over a lot of the securities himself so that he COULD do it. Another EXtraordinary combination, if you will permit me to say so—I refer to your father—a man who will show you his door one minute and open his pocketbook and his best bottle of wine for you the next,” and he plunged himself down in his seat with so determined a gesture that it left no question on Harry's mind that he intended sitting it out until daylight should there be the faintest possibility of his financial proposition being accepted.
Harry walked to the window and gazed out on the trees. There was no doubt now that Mr. Temple was once more on his feet. “Uncle George will go now to Moorlands,” he said, decisively, in a low tone, speaking to himself, his heart swelling with pride at this fresh evidence of his father's high sense of honor—then he wheeled and addressed the attorney:
“Shall I tell Mr. Temple this news, about the Patapsco Bank, Mr. Pawson?”