A Millionaire of Yesterday
friend. It will be best for you. Afterwards you will admit it.”      

       “Go ahead,” Trent said, “I'm anxious to hear what you've got to say. Only look here! I'm a bit short-tempered this morning, and I shouldn't advise you to play with your words!”      

       “This is no play at all,” Da Souza remarked, with a sneer. “I ask you to remember, my friend, our first meeting.”      

       Trent nodded.     

       “Never likely to forget it,” he answered.     

       “I came down from Elmina to deal with you,” Da Souza continued. “I had made money trading in Ashanti for palm-oil and mahogany. I had money to invest—and you needed it. You had land, a concession to work gold-mines, and build a road to the coast. It was speculative, but we did business. I came with you to England. I found more money.”      

       “You made your fortune,” Trent said drily. “I had to have the money, and you ground a share out of me which is worth a quarter of a million to you!”      

       “Perhaps it is,” Da Souza answered, “perhaps it is not. Perhaps it is worth nothing at all. Perhaps, instead of being a millionaire, you yourself are a swindler and an adventurer!”      

       “If you don't speak out in half a moment,” Trent said in a low tone, “I'll twist the tongue out of your head.”      

       “I am speaking out,” Da Souza answered. “It is an ugly thing I have to say, but you must control yourself.”      

       The little black eyes were like the eyes of a snake. He was showing his teeth. He forgot to be afraid.     

       “You had a partner,” he said. “The concession was made out to him together with yourself.”      

       “He died,” Trent answered shortly. “I took over the lot by arrangement.”      

       “A very nice arrangement,” Da Souza drawled with a devilish smile. “He is old and weak. You were with him up at Bekwando where there are no white men—no one to watch you. You gave him brandy to drink—you watch the fever come, and you write on the concession if one should die all goes to the survivor. And you gave him brandy in the bush where the fever is, and—behold 
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