“Oh, I can’t admit that,” protested Roderick. “Or at least I dare not allow myself to think like that,” he corrected himself hurriedly.
“Well, we shall see what we shall see. Meanwhile all is well. The rich harvest of experience has been reaped; the fertile soil awaits the next tillage. The important moment of every life is ‘The Now.’ And this is what we have to think about tonight, Roderick.”
“Precisely, Major. And that is just why I opened the conversation. As I said at the outset, you assigned me an interest in your gold mine for a specific object that no longer exists.”
“On the contrary,” replied Buell Hampton, “I assigned it on general principles—on the general principle of helping a worthy young man at the critical period of starting into useful life-work. But I may tell you also,” he laughed lightly, “that I had in my mind’s eye valuable and important future services whereby the interest would be paid for most adequately.”
“And these services are what?” asked Roderick, with a delighted gleam in his eyes.
“We’ll come to that presently. Where is Grant Jones?”
“He was to follow me here in half an hour. Time’s almost up, unless he’s on the trail of a newspaper scoop.” Roderick was smiling happily now.
“Well, we shall await his coming. What do you say to a little music to beguile the time?”
The Major glanced at his violin resting on a side table.
“Nothing would give me greater pleasure,” responded Roderick, jumping up with alacrity and handing to the master his old Cremona.