“Of course.”
“Well, look here, Hendon, Janet and I have a little money between us in Consols, and, as we are going to make a fresh start together, we’ll do so clearly, and your debt shall be paid.”
“What, with Janet’s money? Hang it, no!” cried Hendon fiercely; “I’m not such a cad as that.”
“You are going to be my brother,” said Mark, smiling as he slapped him on the shoulder, “my younger brother, and you’ll do exactly what I bid you.”
“Yes, but—”
“That will do. I see my way clearly now, so let’s go up-stairs and have a chat with the girls.”
Hendon put down his pipe very slowly, and glanced up at a shelf, upon which some of the apparatus connected with his father’s dreams was standing; but it offered him no solution of his difficulties, and he followed Mark Heath into the surgery just as Janet and Rich, who were unable longer to bear the suspense, came down to press for an explanation.
“Here, I say,” saluted the party, from Bob, “who’s been a-meddlin’ with these here preparations?”
“What preparations?” said Hendon sharply.
“These here,” cried Bob, who had just taken down a large glass jar to dust. “The doctor will be in a way. He don’t like no one to meddle with them.”