Mr John Mackay, who did not arrive till late in the afternoon, proved to be more suitable. He was middle-aged and hard-faced, at least when he was talking business, and he went to the root of the matter at once—the question of his professional fee, which was finally settled more to his own satisfaction than to that of Mr Gobbitt, who had a distinct aversion to giving mere employés a chance to imitate the late Jeshurun, of whom the one recorded fact is that “he waxed fat and kicked.” Still, John Mackay knew what he himself wanted, and he had the knowledge which Mr Gobbitt wanted, so, for once in his life at least, the merchant agreed to pay a fair wage.
“And where are we going to?” John Mackay asked.
Mr Gobbitt hesitated. “Well, I must tell you, I suppose; but it is in confidence, the strictest confidence.”
The Scotchman gave a quick little nod; he was not prone to unnecessary speech.
“We land at a place called Igut, and from there make our way round the end of that large range of mountains to some land on the northern side. They tell me—Commissioner Gumpertz tells me—that the journey will not be a difficult one. We keep in the valley for some twenty-five miles, then cross at an easy pass.”
“Taking any escort?” the Scotchman asked.
The merchant shook his head. “I am informed it is quite unnecessary; though some of the native soldiers—Scouts, I think they are called—will come along to help us with transport arrangements.”
John Mackay stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Well, at least they all know me well enough—Felizardo, and the others as well. I myself can go anywhere;” a saying which gave food for thought to Mr Gobbitt, who could not decide whether it was to be construed as encouraging or otherwise.
Commissioner Gumpertz received Mr Gobbitt very graciously when that gentleman came to pay the deposit. “I am delighted, sir,” he said, “flattered to think you are taking my advice, which was given in the interests of these Islands and their people, and proves, most fortunately, to be in your interest as well. I might tell you, in confidence, that there will be a bill before Congress next session forbidding these large sales of land—a most unfortunate proposal; but your business will be through long before then.”
When, however, Mr Gobbitt handed him a cheque, crossed, for the deposit, the Commissioner looked doubtful. “I am afraid, sir, I cannot take this—my dear sir, I mean no slight on yourself—but the rules of the Department are very strict. No cheques taken, they say. Still, would you write another one, a bearer cheque, and I will send a messenger down to the bank with it. That will only take ten minutes, and we can fix up the matter at once. If you will excuse me, I will get the secretary to make out the receipt.”