Dick never knew it, but the 'Bishop' wrote to Miss Janetta Crisp and
begged her to send no more cheques. He told his kind auntie very
modestly that he had a bank account of his own, and that he hoped one
day to thank her in person for all she had done for him.
Towards the close of the third year the 'Bishop' told Dick that it
would be well for them to leave their saloon, and to purchase a small
hotel then offered for sale. Dick told his old friend to go ahead. His
reverence supplied Dick's share of the purchase-money, and the saloon
knew them no more. But the hotel, under the 'Bishop's' management,
proved a tiny gold mine.
All this time, however, the memory of that dirty trick he had helped
to play upon an honest gentleman, festered in his memory. He feared
that Nemesis would overtake him, and time justified these fears; for
in the spring of 1898 came a second letter to the Rev. Tudor Crisp, of
The Rectory, San Lorenzo, a letter that the poor 'Bishop' read with
quickening pulses, and then showed to Dick.
"My very dear Sir" (it began), "a curious change in my fortunes
enables me to carry out a long-cherished plan.
Pages:
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360