“Good!” said Tom, joyfully.
“Then,” said the banker, “I shall be able to complete my business with you all. I have bought your gold dust, you remember, and must settle for it. I can do so better in San Francisco than here. Besides, I shall have a large account to settle with my young friend here.”
“With me?” asked Tom.
“Yes, the gold dust which I found I shall return to you with interest.”
“But you have spent the interest on my father.”
“Only a small part. Let me tell you, my boy, that that gold was the foundation of my fortune. It amounted to a little over twelve thousand dollars. I invested in building-lots in the city, and sold out at an immense profit. I am now worth half a million, and that was the nucleus of my fortune.”
“Half a million!” exclaimed Peter Brush, regarding his guest with awe.
“Yes. Now, let me tell you what I propose to do. To my young friend, Tom, I will turn over twenty-five thousand dollars, if he will give me a receipt in full for the money belonging to his father, which I have been using for eight years.”
“Twenty-five thousand dollars! Mr. Percival, that is too much.”
“It is not enough, but if you are satisfied, I will accept the rest as a voluntary concession of your rights.”