“Take down this letter,” he said sharply. “‘To the secretary of the King’s Hospital Fund—I have pleasure in enclosing a check for twenty’—let me see, what are the exact figures?—‘twenty-nine thousand, three hundred and fifty pounds for the benefit of the Fund. This is a gift from Mr. Julian Weiss and two friends, and I shall esteem it a favor if you will acknowledge the receipt of same in to-morrow’s issue of the Times. I do not wish my own name to appear in the matter.’ Have that typed at once and send it off by hand. How will that do?” Gaunt asked turning to Drake.
“It seems to be one way out of the difficulty—but what about the holders of the shares who have sold on the strength of the forged cable? Surely they ought to be considered?” Drake said thoughtfully.
“Ah—that didn’t occur to me. But still, I’ll send the check off. I promised Weiss something interesting in the Times to-morrow and he shall have it. As to the owners of the shares, I’ll instruct the brokers to offer them back at the price they sold to me, but I’m afraid that they will think me mad,” Gaunt said ruefully.
But there was a smile on his face when he rose.
“I am rather enjoying this experience—up to the present. But enough of business for to-day. Come with me to Park Lane, and we’ll have a long talk after lunch. I want your advice on many matters. By the bye, I hope you have decided to reside with us?” Gaunt asked abruptly.
“Yes—but not until I have got everything into working order at home.”
“How long will that take?”
“About a week, but for some time to come I must continue to visit the East End,” Drake answered, and then suddenly burst into a fit of hearty laughter.
“What amuses you?” Gaunt asked drily.
“Only the memory of Mr. Weiss’s face. I am afraid that he received a terrible shock.”