“The condition under which I shall treat with you is this: You will place at once in the Bank of Japan, to the order of Rupert Tremorne, the five hundred thousand dollars you borrowed from him, together with interest compounded for three years at six per cent. If, as is likely, you are not in a position to hand over such a sum, you may pay half the amount into the Bank of Japan here, and cable to have the other half similarly placed in the First National Bank of Chicago. The moment I receive cable advice from my confidential man of business in Chicago that the money is in the bank there, or the moment you show me the whole amount is in the bank here, I shall carry out the promises I have made in the body of this letter.
“Yours truly,
“Silas K. Hemster.”
The look of astonishment that doubtless came into my face must have appeared genuine to Cammerford as he watched me keenly across the table. I handed the letter back to him.
“I assure you I know nothing of this proviso.”
“In that case,” said Cammerford airily, “I hope you will have no objection to paying me back the money when once you have received it. I trust that your silk-stockinged idea of strict honesty will impel you toward the course I have suggested.”
“I am very sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Cammerford, but circumstances have changed since I saw you last, and, if you don’t mind, I’ll keep the money.”
Cammerford laughed heartily; he was in riotous good humour, and I suppose his compensation in this trust-forming business would be so enormous that the amount paid into the bank seemed trifling by comparison.
“I should be glad,” said I, rising, “if you would pen a few words to Mr. Hemster accepting or declining his offer.”
“Of course I will, dear boy,” he replied, taking the latest pattern of fountain pen from his waistcoat pocket; “you are the most courteous of messengers, and I shall not keep you two shakes.” Whereupon he rapidly scrawled a note, blotted it, sealed it, and handed it to me.
He arose and accompanied me to the door, placing me under some temporary inconvenience by slapping me boisterously on the shoulder.
“Tremorne, old man, you’re a brick, and a right-down deep one after all. I’m ever so much obliged to you for lending me your money, although I did not think it would be recalled so soon, and I did not expect the interest to be so heavy. Still, I needed it at the time, and put it where it has done the most good. So long, old fellow. You will imagine yourself a rich man to-morrow.”