'Where's your partner?' I asked
of Daniel Molteno. 'I haven't seen him lately.' 'Partner no longer, Mr.
Killick,' said he. 'We've dissolved. He's gone to South Africa.' 'What to
do there?' I asked. 'Oh,' answered Daniel Molteno, 'he's touched with this
fever to get at close quarters with the diamond fields! He's gone out
there to make a fortune, and come back a millionaire.' 'Well!' I said.
'He's a likely candidate.' 'Oh, yes!' said Daniel. 'He'll do well.' No
more was said--and, as far as I can remember, I never saw Daniel Molteno
again. It was some time before I had occasion to go that way--when I did,
I was surprised to see a new name over the shop. I went in and asked where
its former proprietor was. The new shopkeeper told me that Mr. Molteno had
sold his business to him. And he didn't know where Mr. Molteno had gone,
or whether he'd retired from business altogether; he knew nothing--and
evidently didn't care, either, so--that part of my memories comes to an
end!"
"Mr. Spencer Levendale is a man of just under fifty," remarked Ayscough,
after a thoughtful pause, "and I should say that twenty-five years ago,
he'd be just such a man as Mr.
Pages:
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223