“I said ‘you,’” said Mills in a hectoring tone, “and I will soon explain why. You lost a large sum in South Africans, but won it back again in Americans. You then again, and again contrary to my advice, embarked in perfect wild-cat affairs, which ended in our—I say ‘our’ here—getting severely scratched and mauled. Altogether you have frittered away L30,000, and have placed the remaining ten in a venture which to my mind is as wild as all the rest of your unfortunate ventures. These speculations have, almost without exception, been choices of your own, not mine. That was one of the reasons why I said ‘you,’ not ‘we.’”
He paused a moment.
“Another reason is,” he said, “because without any exception the transactions have taken place on your advice and in your name, not in mine.”
That was a sufficiently meaning statement, but Mills did not wish his partner to be under any misapprehension as to what he implied.
“In other words,” he said, “I can deny absolutely all knowledge of the whole of those operations.”
Mr. Taynton gave a sudden start, as if the significance of this had only this moment dawned on him, as if he had not understood the first statement. Then he seemed to collect himself.
“You can hardly do that,” he said, “as I hold letters of yours which imply such knowledge.”
Mills smiled rather evilly.
“Ah, it is not worth while bluffing,” he said. “I have never written such a letter to you. You know it. Is it likely I should?”
Mr. Taynton apparently had no reply to this. But he had a question to ask.
“Why are you taking up this hostile and threatening attitude?”
“I have not meant to be hostile, and I have certainly not threatened,” replied Mills. “I have put before you, quite dispassionately I hope, certain facts. Indeed I should say it was you who had threatened in the matter of those letters, which, unhappily, have never existed at all. I will proceed.
“Now what has been my part in this affair? I have observed you lost money in speculations of which I disapproved, but you always knew best. I have advanced money to you before now to tide over embarrassments that would otherwise have been disastrous. By the exercise of diplomacy—or lying—yesterday, I averted a very grave danger. I point out to you also that there is nothing to implicate me in these—these fraudulent employments of a client’s money. So I ask, where I come in? What do I get by it?”
Mr. Taynton’s hands were trembling as he fumbled at some papers on his desk.
“You know quite well that we are to share all profits?” he said.
“Yes, but at present there have not been any. I have been, to put it plainly, pulling you out of holes. And I think—I think my trouble ought to be remunerated. I sincerely hope you will take that view also. Or shall I remind you again that there is nothing in the world to connect me with these, well, frauds?”