“Have you seen this concession given to your friend, Mr Homfray? I don’t know who he is, but I fear it is not worth the paper it is written upon, because here I have a concession which revokes all previous ones, and which will make it penal for anyone who attempts to trespass as a prospector in any part of the Wad Sus region! Here it is! Look for yourself,” he said, taking the sealed document from his pocket and handing it to the astonished financier. “Of course,” he added, “if the affair is too small for your attention, Mr Sandys, I can easily negotiate it elsewhere. But as we are friends, I thought I would let you have its refusal.”
Purcell Sandys was utterly staggered. He knew French well, and at a glance he convinced himself that the document was genuine.
“And not only have we the concession, but here also is a plan of the exact situation of the mines, together with a statement from one of the Touareg tribesmen, Ben Chaib Benuis, with its French translation. The man, a trusted messenger of the Moorish Government, has quite recently been upon the spot, and has brought back a very large and valuable emerald which is in the possession of an ex-Moorish official at Tangier, and can be seen any day.”
Mr Sandys scanned the French translation and sat back in wonder.
It was quite evident that the concession granted to young Homfray—if there had ever been one—was worthless, for there was the sealed document dated only a few days before which rescinded every other grant made by the Moorish Government.
“I, of course, know nothing of your friend Mr Homfray,” remarked Rutherford. “But I fear that if he attempts to prospect in the Wad Sus he will be at once arrested. I alone hold the only concession in that district,” and slowly picking up both the formidable-looking documents, he carefully refolded them and replaced them in his pocket.
“Well, Mr Rutherford,” said the pale, thoughtful old financier at last. “I confess I am very much puzzled, and before entering upon this affair as a matter of business I would first like to look into young Homfray’s claims.”
“Very naturally,” laughed the easy-going Rutherford. “I should do so myself in the circumstances. I fear, however, that the young man, whoever he is, has somewhat misled you. I’ll look in and see you to-morrow morning—about this time—eh?” he added as he rose and left, while Mr Sandys sat speechless and puzzled.
When Rutherford had gone he called Elma and told her of his visit.
“What? That man here again?” cried the girl. “He can’t have any valid concession. Roddy has it. He would never write a lie to me!”