investments that the bulk of the money comes. Formerly, interest was higher, but securities fluctuate, We have done our best—yes, we have done our best."
Here Mr. Fleming folded his hands across his capacious cummerbund, and assumed an expression of benign satisfaction.
"Oh, your best, of course," quickly assented Mallender. "I did not come out here with an eye to money. What brought me to India was to find my Uncle," and his umbrella struck the matting with such a vigorous thump, that it raised a little puff of dust. "I have my own ideas. I've given this business a great deal of—er—consideration, and I don't mind telling you, I firmly believe my Uncle to be dead, and that some infernal scoundrel is impersonating him, and living on half his fortune. Our share was just a bribe to shut our mouths and stifle inquiries. Now," suddenly appealing to Mr. Parr, "what do you say?"
"Well, Captain Mallender," and he gave a laugh of ironical amusement, "if I must give an opinion, I say, that your idea would make a valuable plot for a sixpenny shocker, but that is all there is in it."
"There is everything in it," replied the young man forcibly. "By all accounts my Uncle was remarkable for his high spirits and energy, a keen soldier—but not attached to the East. He heard the West a-calling, and was always looking forward to returning home; his letters were full of it. I've read them myself. So I ask you why—if alive—he should cut adrift from all he cared for, and bury himself in a country that he loathed?"
"Yes, yes, I must admit there is something in what you say," conceded Mr. Parr. “He was a handsome, headstrong, young officer. I saw him once, in this very office, when I was a junior—but—but—" and he pursed up his thin purple lips, "things happen, changes take place in people's characters, as well as in their constitutions. We have all to reckon with the unexpected; at any rate, we have Captain Mallender's instructions, and in his handwriting."
