"Your refusal to satisfy me on this point, when we
previously spoke of it, tended to confirm my suspicions," continued Mr.
Huntley. "I think you might make a confidant of me, Hamish. That money
could not have dropped from the clouds; and I am sure you possessed no
funds of your own just then."
"But neither did I steal it. Mr. Huntley"--raising his eyes to that
gentleman's face--"how closely you must have watched me and my
affairs!"
Mr. Huntley drew in his lips. "Perhaps I had my own motives for doing
so, young sir."
"I earned the money," said Hamish, who probably penetrated into Mr.
Huntley's "motives;" at any rate, he hoped he did so. "I earned it
fairly and honourably, by my own private and special industry."
Mr. Huntley opened his eyes. "Private and special industry! Have you
turned shoemaker?"
"Not shoemaker," laughed Hamish. "Book-maker. The truth is, Mr.
Huntley--But will you promise to keep my secret?"
"Ay. Honour bright."
"I don't want it to be known just yet. The truth is, I have been doing
some literary work. Martin Pope gave me an introduction to one of the
London editors, and I sent him some papers. They were approved of and
inserted: but for the first I received no pay. I threatened to strike,
and then payment was promised. The first instalment, I chiefly used to
_arrest_ my debts; the second and third to liquidate them. That's where
the money came from."
Mr.
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