“Well, Roderick, today I have transferred to your credit in your Unde Allen’s bank precisely this sum.”
“Major, Major, I could never accept such a gift.”
“Just hear me patiently, please. The sum is quite rightfully yours. It is really only a small fraction of what your father’s claim might have produced for you had I taken you earlier into my full confidence and so helped you to the location of the rich sandbar with its nuggets of gold. Moreover, you know me well enough to understand that I count wealth as only a trust in my hands—a trust for the good of humanity. And I feel that, in equipping such a man as yourself, a man whom I have tested out and tried in a dozen different ways without your knowing it—in equipping you with a sufficient competency I really help to discharge my trust, for I invest you with the power to do unmeasured good to all around you. I need not expatiate on such a theme; you have heard my views many times. In sharing my wealth with you, Roderick, I simply bring you in as an efficient helper for the uplift of humanity. It therefore becomes your duty to accept the trust I hand over to you, cheerfully and wishing you Godspeed with every good work to which you set your hand.”
“Then, Major, I can but accept the responsibility. I need not tell you that I shall always try to prove myself worthy of such a trust.”
“I have yet another burden to place on your shoulders. The balance of the wealth at my present disposal I have also handed over to you—as my personal trustee. At this moment I do not know when and in what amount I shall require money for the task I am about to undertake. Later on you will hear from me. Meanwhile Allen Miller knows that my initial investment will be equal to his own in the valley irrigation scheme. You, Roderick, as my trustee may contribute further sums at your absolute discretion; if the work requires help at any stage, use no stinting hand irrespective of financial returns for me, because with me the thing that counts mainly is the happiness and prosperity of this town, its people, and the surrounding valley lands.”
“But, Major, can’t you remain with us and do these things yourself?”
“No; the call is preemptory. And if perchance you should never hear from me again, Roderick, continue, I beg of you, to use my money for the good of humanity. Count it as your own, use it as your own. I lay down no hard and fast rules to guide you. Give to the poor—give to those in distress—pay off the usurer’s mortgage and stop excessive interest that makes slaves of the poor family struggling to own a little thatched cottage. Give wherever your heart is touched—give because it is God’s way and God is prompting you by touching your heart.”
Roderick listened in silence, deeply moved. He saw that Buell Hampton’s mind was made up—that no pleading or remonstrance could alter the decision at which he had arrived. The Major had now risen from his chair; there was a softness in the rich full tones of his voice, a look of half pain in his eyes, as he went on: “But remember, although we may be parted, our friendship abides—its influences endure. Friendship, my dear Roderick, is elemental—without commencement and without end—a discovery. From the beginning of furthest antiquity, the pathway of the centuries have been lined with tablet-stones pronouncing its virtues. Friendship is the same yesterday, today, tomorrow and forever. It is an attraction of personalities and its power is unseen and as subtle as the lode-stone. It is the motive that impels great deeds of bravery in behalf of humanity. It speaks to the hearts of those who can hear its accents of truth and wisdom, and contributes to the highest ideals of honor, to the development of the sublimest qualities of the soul. It is the genius of greatness; the handmaiden of humanity. I have sometimes thought that if we could place in our own souls a harp so delicately attuned that as every gale of passion, of hope, of sorrow, of love and of joy swept gently over the chords, then we would hear in the low plaintive whisperings the melody of friendship’s sweetest note—that quivers and weeps and laughs on the shore line of immortality.”
“Your friendship, Major,” said Roderick fervently, “will always be one of the most deeply cherished things in my life. But I cannot reconcile myself to the thought that we should part.”
Buell Hampton laid a hand upon the young man’s shoulder.